The Guys You Don't See Until They're Suddenly in Power
by BatBlade
Summary: Originally posted on ao3. This is a self-indulgent fic where Harry is pretty smart, Draco is what Tom Felton thought he should've been, a lot of subtlety and references and Fred and George Weasley as actual developed characters because I love them. Did I mention a ministry takeover? No? How odd. WIP, AU, Canon Divergent.
1. Malfoy Manor

"Bloody Potter and his stupid broom and his stupid Gryffindors. _Youngest seeker in over a century._ Pah! _Saint Potter_ ," Draco snorted, doing a daring roll-over. He released the well-worn Quaffle from his fingers and let it fly towards the centre goalpost.

The enormous white peacock roosting in it let out an indignant squawk as it flew off. Draco sat atop his broom, panting in exhaustion. He fetched the Quaffle and flew back to the grounds of Malfoy Manor and trudged in, holding his broom over his shoulder and his Quaffle under his arm.

A ragged-looking house elf appeared behind Draco and wiped up his muddy footprints as he stomped towards his bedroom. As Draco passed the library, he jumped back in shock as a tall figure cloaked in black stepped into his path.

Draco looked up and backed away when he saw the manic happiness displayed on Lucius Malfoy's face. _Oh dear, I'm in for it now_ , he thought sullenly as Lucius spotted him and his mouth turned down into the patented Malfoy scowl.

"Draco," his father drawled, eyeing his muddy form distastefully, "Has your year at Hogwarts amongst the Mudbloods led you to experiment?"

Draco looked down at his muddy Quidditch robes and stated tonelessly, "I was practicing Quidditch."

Lucius raised an eyebrow in condescension, " _Ah_ … _yes_. I should _hope_ you bring the Malfoy name pride and excel at _something_ , since you have failed to do well academically."

Draco puffed up indignantly, "I was second only to that mudblood Granger -"

Lucius cut in coldly, "You have told me this multiple times, Draco. It is not a good excuse. We are the cream of society, allowing _Mudbloods -_ "

Lucius sneered in disgust.

"- to best you in anything _remotely_ Wizarding is a shame to your family. I hope that your next term in Hogwarts brings better news."

With that, Lucius swept away towards his study, but not before Draco's sharp eyes caught him subtly slipping a small, black book into his inner robe pockets. Draco stood there for a moment, trying to get his emotions under control. He startled as a House Elf appeared beside his knee.

"Master Draco? Will yous be taking off yous shoes?"

Draco looked down at the pillow-cased House Elf - Dobby if he remembered right - and snarled half-heartedly, "I do as I please, Elf. Now be quiet if you're going to follow me."

Dobby gulped and nodded fearfully and stood aside as a melodic voice called out.

"Draco, darling, whatever are you standing here for?" Narcissa Malfoy called as she elegantly swept down the corridor.

"Mother? Shouldn't you be having tea at the Parkinson's?" Draco asked through concealed worry. Narcissa Malfoy would _never_ let anything interrupt her social activities. Narcissa smiled benignly, though it didn't reach her eyes, and that was when Draco started to _really_ worry.

"Your father called me here on important business. I must be going now Draco, run along," she said, before fondly caressing his head and sweeping off.

Draco frowned but turned around, just as Narcissa called softly, "And Draco dear? Do be quiet when you do so."

Draco took his mother's blessing for what it was: permission to follow her discretely. He looked at Dobby, who was cleaning up the flecks of mud Draco left behind as he moved. Catching the Elf's eyes, he put a finger to his lips and padded as silently as he could towards his father's study.

Draco leaned in at the door, pleased that whatever it was, Lucius had been in such a hurry he didn't cast Silencing charms. He listened to his father's excited whispers.

"... - _back_ _Cissa! I found the artifact the Dark Lord gave me for safekeeping. This seemingly useless book_ \- _it gave me instructions from the Dark Lord himself! He wrote to me when I wrote in it."_

" _Lucius… you cannot really think the Dark Lord is back? He was vanquished to nothing by the Potter boy!"_

" _There was never a body Narcissa. This book of the Dark Lord's, it contains magic so powerful that it must be his way of communicating. He proved it - talked to me of how he recruited my father to his side. It's all him, Narcissa. And he seeks a way back to us. I must follow these instructions, and you will help me. I must get this book to Hogwarts."_

Draco went pale as his mother paused. Lucius was either desperate or he wanted to use Draco if he was asking Mother for help.

" _Very well, Lucius. But not through Draco. I will not allow you to use him, for fear of retribution to the Malfoy name if he was caught."_

Draco almost couldn't contain his sigh of relief. Lucius waved her concern away impatiently.

" _Yes, yes, of course. We shall have to make a trip to Diagon Alley to pass off this book to a student. The Dark Lord told me - he told me he would reopen the Chamber of Secrets, like he did when he was in school. He will unleash the monster within, as the Heir of Slytherin, kill all the Mudbloods and bring himself back to the Wizarding world."_

" _But what about the children? Draco will be in school while this happens - will this monster hurt him?"_

" _The Dark Lord promised he would only kill the Mudbloods. Don't worry, Cissa. Everything will be as it was before, and the purebloods will rule the Wizarding world. And the Malfoys! Oh - the Malfoys will be the right-hand under the Dark Lord. Just you wait Cissa, just you wait."_

Draco had heard enough. Pale and shaking, he ran up to his room, brushing past the frozen Elf by his side. Throwing his broom and Quaffle carelessly onto his bed, he stripped quickly and stepped into the shower, scrubbing off the dirt and grime and the lingering feeling of horror from his eavesdropping session.

Draco leaned against the shower wall, letting the water run over him and soothe him. He closed his eyes.

"My father is crazy," he muttered to himself, "My father is _crazy_ and believes the Dark Lord is back. My father is in possession of a dark artifact that belonged to the Darkest wizard to ever grace the Wizarding world. Okay."

Draco ran his fingers through his wet hair and then clenched his fists over his eyes.

"My father is plotting to bring the Dark Lord back through this Dark artifact by giving it to a student, who may or may not be killed by it. And the stupid book can open a - a what? A Chamber of Secrets. And then a monster controlled by the Heir of Slytherin - the Dark Lord - will be let out and potentially kill all the students, including me. Right."

Draco opened his eyes, shut off the water and dried himself off. He dressed quickly in his robes and sat on the edge of his bed, staring at the wall. He nodded to himself.

"Right. I'm going to do something."


	2. The Library

Narcissa Malfoy smoothed her hands over her dress as she briskly, yet gracefully, walked to the front hall to receive her tea guests. She passed by the Library, a fond smile gracing her face when she saw Draco reading. She continued on and noted the weather outside was pleasant, a good day for flying. She halted, shoes squeaking against the marble floor - a most unusual gesture for the ever graceful Lady Malfoy.

She picked up her skirts and jogged to the library, where, true to form, Draco was reading instead of flying. She walked in and sat next to Draco - who looked up briefly from the ancient tome he was reading to flash her a smile. She observed him for some time through suspicious eyes and eventually, Draco looked up at her inquiringly.

"Draco," she said cautiously, "Might I wonder what you're doing in here - reading - when it's perfectly beautiful weather for flying outside? Were you not practicing to attain a position on the Slytherin Quidditch team?"

Draco looked out the Library window sorrowfully, "Yes, but I have things to do."

Narcissa caught her son's eye, and no words needed to be spoken to ask her question and receive an answer. She phrased her next words carefully.

"Of course, darling. I must be going. Vicenza Zabini and Haneul Parkinson aren't very patient ladies." _Parkinson and Zabini are here._

"Of course, Mother. I do hope they haven't brought their children?" _Don't want Pansy or Blaise to know._

"I doubt you will be disturbed by them. Carry on, dear, it's a delight to see you working so hard." _Won't let them disturb you, carry on._

Narcissa stood and walked past the bookshelves, tapping on random books with manicured fingernails as Draco watched her. She paused at one and with a flick of her wand, floated it to Draco. She left the room with a sweep of her silken skirts.

"I think you'll enjoy this one, dear. A very good read."

Draco took the book from the air as his mother closed the Library doors behind her. _Aensyent Beests of Magick,_ Draco read curiously. He opened to the Index.

 _Acromantula, Ashwinder, Augurey, Basilisk, Bicorn - this will take a while._ Draco grimaced, but dutifully opened the book.

" _An Acromantula is a species of giant spide… inhabits dense jungles. Acromantulas are believed to be a wizard-bred species, designed to guard dwellings or treasure hoards… These giant spiders with a taste for human flesh..."_

 _Possible_ , Draco thought. He skipped the various descriptions and went on to the next creature.

" _The Ashwinder is a serpent that is created from the remains of any magical fire that is allowed to burn unchecked. As it is a serpentine creature, the Ashwinder may very well be susceptible to Parseltongue magic."_

" _Serpents_. That's it. Slytherin was a Parselmouth, his heir's probably one too," Draco mumbled. He read on about the Ashwinder, but found they " _only live for an hour and will collapse to dust when they have laid their eggs"._

That wasn't it, then.

" _The Augurey, also known as the Irish Phoenix -"_

Nope. Draco flipped the page and - ah, this looked promising.

" _The Basilisk is a giant serpent, also known as the King of Serpents. It is a creature bred by Dark Wizards..."_

King of Serpents. Sounded like something Salazar Slytherin would keep.

" _The Basilisk can grow up to fifty feet in length… eyes have the power to instantly kill anyone who looks into them… Basilisks can live a natural life of at least nine hundred years -"_

"Draco."

Draco blanched and slammed the book shut unceremoniously, looking up as Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway, looking at his son with cold regard and impatience.

"I am in need of the Library. Alone. Leave."

Draco hurried to keep the books back where they came from, as Lord Malfoy strode past him and to the nearest book shelves - ignoring his son. Draco walked briskly from the room - _Malfoys never run,_ his father's voice sneered in his head - and he was barely past the door before they slammed shut and locked.

Draco summoned an Elf and told it to get his broom while he walked to the half-sized Quidditch pitch on the grounds of the Manor. The Elf was back in seconds and Draco immediately mounted the broom, shooting into the sky.

As he flew rounds around the pitch, he contemplated what he knew. Salazar Slytherin was widely renowned for being a Parselmouth, everyone knew that. All his descendants had been Parselmouths, up until the line ended with the Gaunt family - any pureblood would cringe at the lengths the Gaunts went through to keep their blood pure and the Parselmouth trait solely in their family.

He would have to go back and read the book again, make a copy of the information. But why the _hell_ would Father condone having a giant _snake_ wandering around the school? Did the pureblood children mean so little to him? Did Draco mean so little to him? He gritted his teeth and pushed harder against the wind, tamping down on the utter sadness that threatened to overwhelm him. He focused again.

It had to be a Basilisk, Draco couldn't see it being anything else. The ability to live for hundreds of years, the fact that it was a bloody huge snake and that Slytherin and his descendants were all Parselmouths. Only a Parselmouth would be able to speak to the serpent.

Draco would have to get all the information he could on the Basilisk. He'd have to hide this knowledge from his father, who was so insane he'd probably sacrifice Draco to the Dark Lord just to show his devotion. He would keep this information close to heart for now, like his mother, and wait for things to be set in motion before he volunteered it.


	3. The Dursleys

"I didn't even mean it literally! It's a figure of speech -"

"WHAT HAVE I TOLD YOU," thundered Vernon Dursley, spraying spit all over Harry, "ABOUT SAYING THE 'M' WORD IN MY HOUSE."

"Okay, okay! I won't say it again. Promise."

Vernon sat back down and clenched his meaty fist around his knife. Harry eyed it and backed away, gulping. He kept his eye on Vernon throughout the meal as Harry prepared Dudley's fourth helping of fried eggs.

After he'd repeated his plans listlessly - _I will be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I don't exist -_ to the simpering Dursleys in preparation for Vernon's business deal dinner, he went out to the garden and stared at nothing in particular. He was to keep away from the house until Petunia called him back in and sent him to his room.

He suddenly felt as though he was being watched, trained as he was from Harry Hunting, and as his eyes came back into focus, he realised the bloody _hedge_ was _watching him_. Just as he was about to kick some sense into whatever the hell it was watching him, Dudley's jeering voice floated out to him.

"I know what day it is," he sang. Harry was too busy watching the hedge eyes blink and disappear.

"What?"

"I know what day it is," Dudley repeated, coming right up to Harry and swinging around his massive belly.

Harry turned derisive eyes on him, "Oh, _well done_ Dudders, you've _finally_ learned the days of the week."

Dudley ignored him and continued on, "Today's your _birthday_. Haven't got any cards, have you? Haven't got any friends at that freak school o' yours?"

"What would dear old Aunt Petunia say if she knew her sweetums was interested in my 'freak school'," Harry said innocently.

Dudley stuck two thumbs into his trousers and pulled them, stretching them to accommodate his fat arse.

"What're you staring a' the hedge for?" Dudley asked suspiciously.

"I'm trying to decide what would be the best spell to set it on fire," Harry said truthfully, recalling Seamus' attempts at Charms work. He figured he could get away with a bit of accidental magic.

Dudley stumbled back at once, a look of panic crossing his chubby face.

"Y-You c-can't! Dad'll chuck you out! A-And he'll _beat_ you first! A-And then _where_ will you go? Haven't got no friends -"

" _Eye of rabbit, clockwise turn_ ," Harry chanted fiercely, recalling Ron trying to turn Scabbers yellow, " _make this stupid hedge burn_."

He got in trouble with Aunt Petunia of course, even though nothing happened. He ducked expertly when Aunt Petunia tried to hit him round the head with the heavy, metal, soapy frying pan - used to this treatment.

He hadn't been fast enough to avoid it once when he was younger and he had spent the rest of the day in his cupboard with a terrible headache and blood-soaked hair. He knew now his magic had managed to heal him, but he didn't want to go through that again.

Petunia gave him chores to do out in the garden. Under the blistering heat of the mid-day sun, he cleaned the windows, washed the car, mowed the lawn, trimmed the flowerbeds, pruned and watered the roses, and re-painted the garden bench.

It was half-past seven in the evening before Petunia called him in for his second meal of the day.

"Eat quickly and then upstairs immediately. _Hurry up_!"

He washed up quickly and swallowed down his pitiful dinner of two slices of bread and a lump of cheese. He ran upstairs and into his bedroom - reluctantly given by the Dursleys after Harry threatened to use magic.

And then it all went to shit.

Harry got locked up in his room, his cover of being able to perform magic blown. _All because of stupid Dobby_. He would _never_ have leverage over the Dursleys again, what with the letter from the Ministry. Vernon had beat him soundly, and his bruises were beginning to show up. His stomach growled and Hedwig squawked indignantly at the stale bread Harry tried to feed her.

He pleaded, "It's all we've got. Come on. Please, or you'll starve the rest of the summer."

Hedwig eyed the bread distrustfully, but she must have understood Harry's desperation to save his only friend and she dutifully ate the bread, nudging Harry's hand affectionately through the bars of her cage.

Looking at his poor, beautiful owl all caged up and restless, Harry thought of Ron and Hermione, and of Hagrid, who never wrote to him at all this summer. He chuckled bitterly and was reminded of the great Dumbledore.

' _The greatest wizard ever_ ', Dobby had called him. Where was he now? Comfortably set in Hogwarts - in the Wizarding world - eating his bloody lemon drops. Not giving _a rat's arse_ about Harry getting beat up and starved by the Dursleys, oh _no_. Dumbledore was too _busy_ running an empty school.

And then - in the middle of the night - his salvation came in the form of a flying Ford Anglia.

" _Ron_? _Fred_? _George_? What are you _doing here_?"

"You never wrote back to us, mate. Had to see how our star Seeker was doing," said Fred from the driver's seat. George threw him a rope while Ron beamed at him from the passenger seat.

"Oi, tie that to the bars will you Harry? There's a good lad."

Ron asked incessant questions, "Bloody hell, mate, what'd you do to get _bars_ put on your window? Dad said you'd been sent a warning for doing magic. What'd you do eh? Hermione'll go _mental_ if she knew. Mum keeps saying how the Muggles aren't that bad and Dumbledore knows what he's doing. But Fred and George thought it'd be fun to break you out, see if Mum was right."

George snorted derisively from the back seat, "Do you ever shut up Ron? Or have you been talking to Granger so often she's started to convert you into an insufferable git?"

Harry tied the ropes firmly around the bottom of the bar and while Ron argued with George, Fred shot upwards, slowly wrenching the metal bars away from Harry's window. He drove the car back down and opened the boot.

Fred smacked Ron, "Oi Ronniekins, shut up. _Obviously_ the Muggles _are_ that bad."

"Oi, Harry, mate, get your trunk in the boot," George said airily.

Harry whispered hesitantly, "It's downstairs. In my- I mean, in the cupboard. My broom's there too."

Fred and George looked up in horror and Harry shuffled about nervously. Fred whispered, "That's a Nimbus 2000 they've got locked up! This is a catastrophe! Let's go Georgie."

Fred and George jumped out of the car and into Harry's room. They walked cat-like and silent to the locked door and picked it with a hairpin. George grinned at Harry, "It's good to know these Muggle tricks. It's slow, but it's better than being completely useless."

They climbed down the stairs and Harry whispered to watch out for the last step. Harry packed his meagre wardrobe - consisting of exactly two huge shirts that used to be Dudley's and a pair of torn and loose jeans - into the expanded boot of the Ford Anglia, ignoring Ron's running commentary on anything and everything he saw.

Fred and George climbed back up with Harry's things, Fred carrying his Nimbus and a couple of books and George with the trunk on his broad shoulder. They dumped the lot into the boot and Harry tucked Hedwig into the backseat. His escape from Privet Drive went without a hitch.

In the Ford, George picked the heavy lock on Hedwig's cage and let her out. He then turned to an exhausted Harry, genuine concern etching his voice, "You alright, mate? You look pretty banged up."

"It's nothing. Just the Dursleys being the Dursleys."

Ron excitedly told Harry all about what had been going on, refusing to let Harry sleep in his own excitement. Fred and George exchanged a look in the rearview mirror.


	4. The Burrow

Harry felt terrible. In his eagerness to get away from the Dursleys, he hadn't even considered where he would stay or where he would go. Molly Weasley definitely wasn't pleased with his appearance at her home, yelling at Fred, George and Ron, but mainly the twins, who tried to persuade her into letting Harry stay.

"The Muggles were _terrible_ Mum!" argued Fred, "Put _bars_ on his window and his things all locked in this dingy cupboard downstairs -"

"They locked his _door_ too Mum -" began George but then Mrs Weasley raged and questioned, "And _how, exactly,_ did you get out of the door and into the supposed _locked_ cupboard?"

Harry stood there miserably for hours, Hedwig a comforting weight on his shoulder, as the twins and Mrs Weasley had a shouting match. Ron looked awed and whispered to Harry, "This is the first time I've seen Fred and George fight with Mum. Bill and Mum used to have fights like this before he shipped off to Egypt."

Harry felt even worse after that.

Just as Mrs Weasley was about to floo Dumbledore to take Harry home, Mr Weasley popped into the front yard and opened the door wearily. He took in the bizarre sight of his twin sons fighting with their mother and immediately raised his voice.

" _Molly! Fred, George!_ What's going on _?_ "

The usually cheery Weasley patriarch glared tiredly at everyone, earning guilty looks from Mrs Weasley and the twins. But Fred and George wouldn't let their mother sway their father's opinion this time - not on this.

"Dad! We took the car and flew it to Harry's place -"

"- and he was _locked up_ in his room -"

"- the muggles put him there -"

"- and they were _starving_ him Dad -"

"- kept all his things under lock and key -"

"- and we couldn't just _leave him there,_ look at him -"

"- so we brought him home and -"

"- mum's trying to floo Dumbledore and send him _back_ there!"

Throughout the whole exchange, Arthur, Ron and Harry whipped their heads back and forth between the twins while Molly unsuccessfully tried to talk over them.

Arthur held his hand up, stopping whatever tirade Molly was going into. " _Right_ ," he said, clapping his hands together, "Who's this Harry you brought home with you?"

The twins moved aside to reveal Harry, Hedwig perched on his shoulder, looking terribly miserable and unnaturally small.

"I'm sorry, sir, I didn't think. Don't worry, I'll go back -"

The twins cried out in denial and Arthur held his hand up for silence again. He looked closer at the boy, and cried out in shock, "Good lord, you're _Harry Potter_! Arthur Weasley, _good_ to meet you -"

Molly coughed and Arthur straightened, "Right, sorry. Well, of course you're welcome to stay, Harry -"

"WHAT?" Molly Weasley turned on her husband.

" _Molly_. The boy has _clearly_ had a rough time, and if you'd like, you can floo Albus, explain the situation -"

"We don't have any room, Arthur -"

Mr Weasley looked at her in confusion, "Of course we do! Bill' and Charlie's bedrooms aren't in use - Harry can use them. If you're worried about food Molly -"

Molly huffed indignantly. "There is _plenty_ of food in my house. But what about his books and clothes? _Surely_ you don't expect us to pay for them come term starts?"

Ron piped up, "Harry's got his own Gringotts vault! Left to him by his parents! He bought his own books and robes last year with his own money, he can do it again this year too."

Molly pursed her lips as Fred and George folded their arms defiantly. Harry tried very hard to melt into the floor.

"Fine," Molly conceded, then pointed a finger at Harry sternly, "But you aren't staying here for free, young man. I'll have work for you to do."

Harry's heart sank at the mention of work and he nodded. He hoped Molly Weasley wasn't like Aunt Petunia. Hedwig eyed Molly balefully, and crooned softly into Harry's ear.

"Righto!" Mr Weasley said cheerfully, "Fred, George, you help him get his things. Ron, show Harry to Bill's old room. Molly, dinner perhaps? Ginny's been watching from the stairs for a while now."

At this, Ginny squeaked and ran back up to her room. Molly puttered around the kitchen angrily, whipping up a huge dinner of roast, veggies and a cake for dessert.

Fred and George clapped Harry on the back and he gave them a watery smile before they trudged out the back door to get Harry's things. Ron eagerly pulled him up the stairs to Bill's old room, which looked lived in, but had a fine coating of dust over everything. Ron left Harry alone after his mother started shouting for him. Fred and George lugged Harry's things up the rickety stairs and carefully set them down, George taking special care of Harry's Nimbus.

Fred chucked the small boy's chin, "Hey, chin up Harry. We've got your back."

"Yeah, and I reckon Mum won't be too much of a pain if you do your chores right. We've all got to do them, so stick with us and you'll be fine."

Harry could only nod tiredly at his teammates.

Mrs Weasley had called them all down to the kitchen and narrowed her eyes at them, particularly Harry. "You lot will be de-gnoming the garden today. We've had an overnight infestation. Mr Potter, if it's not too much trouble, the boys will show you how."

She whipped away back to the kitchen, and Harry tried not to wince. Fred and George showed him how to throw the gnomes, and Harry had gotten a nasty bite from one he'd tried to set down nicely, and then flung it so far the twins had gaped in astonishment. _Oh yes,_ this was _much_ more enjoyable than whatever Aunt Petunia would have had him doing.

After they had de-gnomed the garden, Mrs Weasley called them in for dinner, where Harry was introduced to Percy and Ginny. Percy looked down his long nose at Harry's small stature and then proceeded to ignore him completely. Ginny dropped at least two helpings of potatoes onto the floor every time Harry looked up from his plate.

He had taken half a tablespoon of mash, a tiny bit of gravy and a small slice of roast. He had sat in between Fred and Ron, unsure of what to do or how to behave.

Mrs Weasley looked at his meagre plate and she asked indignantly, "Not catered to your diet, Mr Potter?"

Harry blushed and replied unsurely, "I've never had this much to eat before. I'm sorry, I'm trying not to waste anything."

The entire Weasley family fell silent and Mrs Weasley looked at him in horror, like his answer had deeply cut her. Arthur choked out, "How much do you usually eat, Harry?"

Harry flushed as all eyes - even Percy's - fell on him. Mrs Weasley had put a hand to her mouth. He looked miserably at his hands in his lap, "A-Aunt Petunia usually gives me bread and cheese."

It was silent for a moment and then Mrs Weasley suddenly let out a sob and flung herself at Harry, startling everybody.

"Oh, Harry! Eat as much as you want, dearie. You're so thin…"

"O-Okay, Mrs Weasley," Harry stuttered, not knowing what to do with the woman clinging to him and crying into his raggedy old shirt.

Ron and Ginny looked confused, Percy looked indifferent and continued eating and Arthur and the twins looked like they might vomit. These Muggles were really sick in the head.


	5. Hogwarts

Draco was frustrated. He had no idea if his father had managed to slip the stupid black book to a Hogwarts student yet.

He had hoped to get on Potter's good side this year, if only to make the inevitable fall out of his father's schemings unable to touch Draco. But, unfortunately, the Malfoy and Weasley patriarchs had gotten into a brawl in Diagon - and a physical brawl at that! Draco grimaced. How unbecoming of purebloods.

Unfortunately, Potter had deemed this confrontation as another slight against himself by the Malfoy heir, and ignored all of Draco's attempts to talk to him. Surprisingly, the Weasel twins had started flanking Potter - which was strange considering that they were two years apart.

Draco shrugged internally, clutching his broom tightly as he subtly eyed the pitch for a glint of gold. Quidditch tryouts for Slytherin had started and since Flint was looking for a Seeker, Draco had decided to put his Chaser abilities on hold for now.

The other Seeker hopefuls were puttering around the pitch. Draco was the youngest one there, and he knew Flint was looking for someone to rival Potter. He caught a glimpse of the Snitch, right next to Pucey's ear and - looking around at the competition - he knew he had it.

He shot off straight for the Snitch and within a few seconds, he'd been inducted into the Slytherin Quidditch team.

Draco was ecstatic of course. His father - in a confusing bit of power play - had procured Nimbus 2001's for the rest of the Slytherin team. Draco was just dandy - until Granger got up in his face with her disgustingly bushy hair and said he bought his way into the team.

Draco had frozen and then he'd flown into a furious rage. How _dare_ she insinuate he didn't deserve it _._ How _dare_ she say he had no talent. How _dare_ she tell Draco he didn't work for it. Next thing Draco knew, he had spat out the worst insult he could think of, and then Weasley was vomiting slugs and Potter stared at him with disbelief marring his piercing green eyes.

 _How could you be so cruel_ , his eyes seemed to say. _It's true,_ Draco thought angrily, _all she is, is a filthy little mudblood._ Draco didn't try to talk to Potter again.

But then the attacks happened. The ickle Gryffindor first year with the camera - petrified and in the hospital wing. And Dumbledore - the old fool - wouldn't even consent to have the Mandrake Restorative Draught bought from other suppliers. Next was Justin Finch-Fletchley and the Gryffindor ghost. The Weasel twins often dragged Potter off to various places in the castle, and from what Draco heard, Weasel and Granger weren't very happy about it.

Draco knew this was it. His father's plans were coming to fruition and Draco would be _damned_ if he let it continue. He had to save himself first, so going to the old fool wasn't an option. Instead, he went to Potter, who immediately rebuffed and insulted Draco.

What the bloody hell was he to do now? He had to tell Potter but Potter wouldn't listen to him and if only Draco wasn't a twelve-year-old _child_. He tried dropping hints to Potter through his insults, but that just made Vince and Greg question him and then run off and appear in the infirmary with no recollection whatsoever. And then Granger went and got herself petrified with that Ravenclaw upper year.

Potter and Weasel were devastated. Weasel wouldn't even let Draco say anything before he was trying to hex Draco with his broken wand. Draco had to go to the infirmary to fix his fractured metacarpals.

Draco sat on an infirmary bed now, flexing his hand and staring blankly at Granger's still form. He jumped up and immediately started digging through his pockets. Potter and Weasel were always visiting Granger, let them think _she_ knew what the bloody beast in the Chamber was.

He gave a quiet cry of triumph as he found the duplicated paper. He scrawled ' _pipes'_ onto the page, just in case Potter and Weasel were incredibly stupid and couldn't figure it out. He pondered leaving the paper lying by Granger's side, but as Madame Pomfrey's footsteps headed his way, Draco stuffed it into Granger's clenched fist, ran back to his bed and began flexing his fingers again.

While the nurse checked over his healed metacarpals, Draco hoped desperately to every deity out there that Potter would find the piece of paper.


	6. The Chamber of Secrets

Harry found the paper.

Hermione was brilliant. _Absolutely brilliant._ What wasn't brilliant? This. Bloody. _Basilisk._ And bloody Lockhart trapped in a vegetative state and Ron being separated and this _dirty great snake_ chasing him. And what did he have to defend himself with? A bloody sword.

Who even _used_ swords anymore? The Wizarding World was too blooming (bloody) outdated. If Harry had a gun, the bloody giant worm would be dead ten times over by now.

But Harry did not have a gun, yet Harry had managed to kill the bloody worm but the stupid thing had got a fang into his arm and now Harry was dying. Not that he had ever really lived anyway, Harry thought bitterly. And then bloody Riddle was gloating and Ginny was dying and Harry had had _enough_.

So he wrenched the fang from his arm - ignoring the intense burning pain - and stabbed the cause of all this: that bloody diary. Miraculously, Riddle exploded, Ginny woke up and then Dumbledore's flaming flying chicken had cried and somehow Harry wasn't dying anymore.

Harry was seriously considering asking for a therapist because nothing made sense in the magical world.

He had talked to Dumbledore, who spouted something about the _power of love_ and asked him about his _peculiar parselmouth abilities_.

Harry and Ginny formed a permanent friendship in the hospital wing, under the influence of trauma and rescue operations. Harry realised she had a crush on him and awkwardly let her down, but Ginny had shrugged and said, "Well, I'm kind of put off by boys at the moment, considering I was possessed by an incredibly good looking one."

Harry had shrugged helplessly and left her to her worried parents. He left the hospital wing to go for a walk and give Ginny some space.

Fred and George were sitting on the floor in the corridor a little ways off and when they saw Harry, they immediately launched into one of their back and forth speeches.

"Harry! Merlin, Harry you look right banged up -"

"Speaking of, we're really grateful that you saved Ginny -"

"- Yeah, because she's always been our responsibility but I guess w-we -"

"- we just weren't there for her this year and that makes us absolutely _terrible_ brothers -"

"We just wanted to thank you really. She's our sister and just knowing what could have happened…"

They both fell silent and surreptitiously wiped at their eyes. Harry let them have a moment to compose themselves before speaking.

"Fred, George, really, don't thank me. I just did what I thought was right. But if you really want to thank me, then I'll have to thank you for breaking me out of the Dursleys -"

The twins began to protest but Harry held up a hand to cut them off.

"See? Thanks are unnecessary. We all did what we had to do. Listen, Ginny's very shook up at the moment. I think she'd appreciate hearing whatever you told me. Now, go and be her big brothers."

Fred and George nodded and just as they were about to leave -

"Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You ever get tired of Ron and Granger, come hang with us all right?"

A week later, the Mandrake Restorative Draught was finally brewed and given to the petrified students. Hermione had run into Harry's arms, and immediately started interrogating him about everything he'd done.

"You were right brilliant, Hermione, figuring it out like that," Harry smiled.

"What are you talking about Harry? Honestly, sometimes it seems we're on completely different levels of understanding and comprehension," Hermione tossed back uncaringly.

Ron scrunched up his face,"You mean you didn't leave us that note in your hand telling us it was a basilisk?"

Hermione faltered in her rigorous page flipping. She looked up uncertainly at the two boys before scoffing, "Of course it was me, Ronald. Who else could it have been? Draco Malfoy?"

Ron guffawed loudly and he and Hermione started bickering over exams. Harry froze. Hermione didn't _actually_ find out about the basilisk. Harry knew she had a tendency to over exaggerate her abilities - she wanted to prove herself and she was terrified of losing her friends. From the uncertain looks and her initial reaction, Harry knew she had lied about the paper.

But then… who had put the paper in her hand? Had it been Dumbledore? Why hadn't he done anything about it? Maybe it had been Ginny? But Tom would have known, wouldn't he? Maybe it was because he wanted to face Harry. But neither Dumbledore nor Tom could have known he'd take Hermione's hand and discover the paper. Harry wasn't a touchy-feely boy.

What she and Ron had joked about made him laugh quietly: Draco Malfoy? Help Harry Potter? Hah! His father was the one who had given Ginny the book! Ron and Hermione had always scoffed at Harry's ' _silly_ _idea_ _that_ _Malfoy was the heir of Slytherin'_. But all they had to confirm it was Malfoy's own denial to 'Crabbe' and 'Goyle'. And Hermione's weak Polyjuice had worn off before they could ask him more. But they were right, it wasn't Malfoy, it was Tom.

But Malfoy had tried to talk to Harry back after Colin Creevy was first petrified, telling him there were extremely important things Harry had needed to know. He had insulted Harry once after the revelation of his parselmouth abilities. Malfoy had looked him straight in the eye and sneered, "King of Serpents." And that was what was written on the page he had found in Hermione's hand. And after his encounter with one raging Lucius Malfoy and one free house elf, he had to wonder.

So on the train back to King's Cross, Harry cornered Malfoy while he was alone. Malfoy looked at him coolly.

"Malfoy, I just want to say… thank you. For the basilisk thing."

Malfoy's pureblood facade dropped for a second in shock, before he composed himself and nodded stiffly at Harry, who was surprised that his test had given positive results.

"You're welcome, Potter. Though I must admit, I expected you to take it to the Headmaster and not go running off to save the baby Weasel."

Harry giggled sheepishly and Malfoy's eyes widened. Harry fumbled, "Well - I - Uh - Best be going. Bye Malfoy, see you next term." And then Harry ran away.

Draco Malfoy stared down the corridor at the retreating form of Harry Potter - and smiled.


	7. The Leaky Cauldron

Harry was furious. How _dare_ she. Calling his mother a _bitch_. And his father a _drunkard_. His parents had _died_ _for him._ Faced the Darkest Wizard of all time. Not just in Wizarding UK, but the _world._ Even Grindelwald wasn't as evil as Voldemort. And his parents had faced Voldemort head on. Died to save their baby. He could still hear his mother's screams.

And her good for nothing sister. Aunt Petunia hadn't said a _word_ in defense of her own sister. Harry had lost any minute shred of respect he had for her. How _dare_ they speak badly of his parents, when their sacrifice had saved their lives. _All_ of their lives.

He trudged down the street, Marge floating and screaming in the distance. He had no money, no way of getting to the Leaky Cauldron or to the Weasleys. And Mrs Weasley would hardly be appreciative of his appearance for the second year in a row, as much as she asked Ron to check on Harry's diet.

"Stupid Muggles. Stupid Wizards. Stupid stupid stupid - "

A growl sounded from the hedge to his left and he yelped. Harry backed away from the hedge immediately, drawing out his wand. Underage magic or not - he'd be damned if he let _another_ hedge intimidate him. As he backed to the other side of the road - wand aimed at the hedge - he tripped over the sidewalk. _Stupid Harry. A bloody growling hedge and then you trip. Fantastic job._

And then suddenly with loud BANG - a deep purple bus appeared in front of him. The conductor - Stan Shunpike he said - asked stupid questions and hefted his trunk into the bus. Harry peered around the bus at the hedge, looking for strange eyes or Magical creatures, and when he saw none, he pushed his feelings of discomfort to the back of his mind and happily made his way to the Leaky Cauldron.

"Hello, Tom. Have you got a room?"

Tom the Barkeep looked up and smiled toothily, "Mr Potter! A delight to see you. The Minister is expecting you!"

Harry paled and started backing away, but Tom had moved around his reception desk and pushed Harry along. Harry begun to panic, looking for any way out of this. He couldn't survive without magic - he couldn't! Well, he _could_ but it would be a _terrible existence_.

But the Minister hadn't even given him a light slap on the wrist, let alone snap his wand. The Minister allowed him to leave with a word of warning, "Don't leave Diagon Alley. Tell people where you are. Tell Tom where you're going. You aren't to leave Diagon."

Harry had agreed hesitantly. "Tom, why am I not allowed to leave Diagon?"

The Barkeeper's smile faltered, but he tried to wave Harry's question away, "Oh it's nothing of concern Mr Potter! I'm sure the Minister just didn't want you to trouble yourself looking for other accommodation…"

Harry had stopped in his tracks and drew up in his best authoritative manner. He tried emulating Draco Malfoy's pureblood behaviour, and looked coolly at the BarKeep, eyebrow raised.

Tom had stuttered through his answer, intimidated by the Saviour of the Wizarding World's piercing green gaze. "T-The Minister w-wishes to keep you safe from S-Sirius B-Black."

Harry looked defeated and sighed. Would he ever catch a break?

"Why is Sirius Black after me?"

"He was a supporter of You-Know-Who. H-He killed another Wizard, his best friend. And he killed 13 Muggles in an explosion. Probably wants to finish the job."

"That's not all there is, is there?" Harry sighed as they stopped outside his room.

"Mr Potter," Tom said gently, "I don't think I should be the one to give that news to you. Please, Mr Potter, you really should hear it from someone who knows you better."

"But Tom -"

"No Mr Potter, I insist on this."

Harry sighed and nodded. He would ask Mr Weasley about it. Speaking of the Weasleys, the twins, Ginny and Ron had sent him letters of their trip to Egypt that summer. Ginny was doing better, the trauma of her first year had made her incredibly quiet, but the twins and their older brother Bill were getting her to talk about it more and more each day. Harry was pleased to hear it.

The twins asked after Harry's health and his situation with the Dursleys in between stories of ancient curses, pushing Percy into pyramids and rip off souvenirs. Harry ecstatically wrote back about his blowup and the consequent change in location. Bill and Charlie had sent a small PostScript with the twins' letter, thanking him for saving their baby sister.

Ron's letters mainly consisted of him enthusing about the trip and whatever he'd seen. Hermione had written him a long lecture about underage magic and how she 'didn't see it was necessary. Honestly Harry you can't just go blowing up your relatives'. Harry ignored that particular letter, though it left him unsettled at her callousness.

Harry spent the next few days sorting out his Gringotts account, changing some Galleons for Pounds (Harry was shocked to learn he'd be a multi-billionaire in the Muggle world) and eating to his heart's content at Florean Fortescue. He also bought new sets of clothing for school and wizarding casual wear - and invested in a small, black haversack with an Expandable Space Charm inside. He promptly stuffed all his school books, homework, parchment, a self-inking quill, a couple of Muggle pens he convinced Tom the Barkeep to get for him, and his invisibility cloak into the haversack. Harry carried it wherever he went, made easier by a Lightening Charm imbued into the haversack by the shopkeeper.

The Weasleys came to stay at the Leaky Cauldron a week before Hogwarts started. Percy had ostentatiously greeted Harry only to be pushed aside by Fred and George who wrapped him into a hop-around hug. Arthur had greeted Harry merrily and Mrs Weasley had looked at him disapprovingly and then asked if his appetite had grown. She then proceeded to watch him eat his lunch and slipped an extra scoop of mash on his plate when he wasn't looking, though she ignored him most of the time to glare at Mr Weasley.

Harry dragged Ginny off to Quality Quidditch Supplies, and as they both admired the Firebolt, Harry quietly asked, "How are you doing Ginny?"

Ginny replied equally quietly, "I'm doing better, but I still have 'anxiety attacks' - that's what Bill says they are - sometimes. Usually when boys I don't know want to talk to me."

Harry had swept her away from the Quidditch shop immediately, since it was filled to the brim with boys.

He saw Malfoy and his mother once, across the way at Twilfitt' and Tatting's. He nodded at Malfoy and Malfoy had nodded back. Lady Malfoy had appraised Harry before inclining her head slightly. Harry didn't know what possessed him to bow a little at the waist but judging by the surprised and pleased smile on Lady Malfoy's usually cold face and the incredulous look on Draco's, those period dramas Aunt Petunia watched during the summer had been the right way to go. He'd have to figure out the social hierarchy in the Wizarding World soon.

Harry tried to buy Fred and George's prank potions ingredients since they had no money on them, and the twins immediately went on the defensive about _accepting charity_ and _pity money_ and Harry cast about for something to say to lessen the offense.

"What are you talking about? You _are_ going to pay me back aren't you?"

The Weasley twins had frozen and Harry mentally wished Hagrid (whom he'd reconciled with after the Floo incident last year) would step on him and stop him from putting his foot in his mouth. But then the twins had agreed heartily and promised they would pay him back.

"Well, at least before we leave Hogwarts," Fred had winked. Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

Hermione dropped in two days before the train would leave for Hogwarts. And then she bought that ugly cat. It _really_ hated Scabbers for some reason, Hermione tried pointing out other rats for Crookshanks to chase, but he didn't even lift a paw. He seemed intent on Scabbers. It was weird and Ron absolutely hated the ugly thing, but Harry on the other hand, was on the receiving end of Crookshanks' adoration, much to Hermione's aggravation.

The day came for Harry to return to Hogwarts. He travelled with the Weasleys in _Ministry cars_ , courtesy of Minister Fudge. As Harry was about to follow the rest of the Weasleys and Hermione onto the platform, haversack on his back and pushing the trolley with his lighter trunk and Hedwig's cage, Arthur held him back. The Muggles swarmed around them, taking no notice.

"Harry," Arthur said seriously, "I must warn you, _do not_ go looking for Sirius Black."

Harry looked briefly confused, "Why would I go looking for someone who wants to kill me?"

He remembered the thing Tom the Barkeep hadn't told him, "Mr Weasley… why do you think I would go looking for him?"

Mr Weasley grimaced but shook his head, "I can't tell you that Harry. It's not something you should know."

Harry was becoming sick and tired of adults telling him he didn't need to know things. But he respected and was grateful of Mr Weasley's presence in his life, and decided not to push the boundaries in case Mr Weasley no longer liked him. He sulked, but nodded all the same, and pushed through the wall to the steam-filled platform.

He boarded the train and waved at the Weasley parents before Ron dragged him off to find a cabin, chattering about what he'd been up to during the summer - _again_. Harry had heard this story at least five times now and he didn't care more for it than he had the _first_ five times.

Once in the cabin, Hermione begun lecturing Harry.

"Harry," she said primly, unconsciously mimicking Percy Weasley, "you really shouldn't over dramatise your life at home. Just because your guardians made you angry does not mean you should blow up at them. Not everything can go the way you want it Harry."

Harry frowned, "They -"

Hermione held up her hand, "I don't want to hear it Harry. You really should listen to me, and please do something about your lack of control over your magic. Even Ginny has better control than you, and she wasn't even really present for first year."

"Oi! Don't say that about her Hermione! It's bad enough she goes into these weird trances half the time, don't go spreading it around! Bloody hell," Ron hissed. The duo speculated about Ginny's apparent mental issues, which annoyed Harry to no end.

Harry became more and more irritated by the minute by their careless insensitivity and midway into the trip, when Ron and Hermione started bickering about their animals and questioning Harry about Sirius Black, Harry mumbled about going to the bathroom, grabbed his haversack and left in search of Fred, George and Lee Jordan, who weren't any less _noisy_ , but were much less annoying.

Then the train came to a screeching halt, and all the lights turned off. Harry wasn't stupid. He had seen enough Muggle horror movies from the open grate of his cupboard to know the likelihood of something similar happening in the Magical world was incredibly high. That, and Harry's first two years in the Magical world had him on high alert.

Harry ran into the nearest compartment, ignoring the startled gasps and shrieks. He locked the door, drew the curtains, took out his wand and put his ear to the door. Hearing nothing, Harry rounded on the noisy occupants.


	8. The Slytherin Cabin

Their cabin was in uproar. Oh! It was Potter. But if Draco was right - and he had an inkling he was - Sirius Black, the escaped prisoner, had just boarded the train and was looking for Potter. _Brilliant luck._ Pansy was shrieking her head off about bloody Gryffindors or what not, Vince and Greg were cracking their knuckles and it seemed only he and Blaise had any sense of self-preservation and were keeping quiet. Blaise finally managed to muffle Pansy's screeching, and Draco asked immediately, "Potter, what are you doing here!"

Potter groaned mutely and dropped his face into his hands. Pansy started up again, cursing more than a pureblood girl should, "What the bloody _fuck_ is going on! Why the bloody hell are you in our cabin, Potter! Why has the train stopped? IS THIS YOU GRYFFINDOR'S IDEA OF A PRANK POT -"

"Parkinson, do have some _semblance_ of self-preservation and shut the fuck up. There is something or someone dangerous on the train and I am _not_ going to _die_ because you won't _shut. Your. Trap_ ," Potter hissed.

Pansy shut her mouth in shock, and the rest of the Slytherins stared at Potter in astonishment. Blaise whispered loudly, "Did Potter _really_ just say that? That was the most Slytherin thing I've ever heard - I might actually _cry_. What the hell Potter, why aren't you in Slytherin? More importantly, _why aren't we friends_?"

Potter ignored him and peeped out the drawn curtains. Still no sign of anything, but it would be silly to be unprepared. Without looking at them, Potter ordered, "Crabbe. Goyle. Here with me. Now."

Vince and Greg looked at Draco in uncertainty and Potter snapped, "Are you serious right now? This isn't a fucking _power play._ Now listen to me for your own _self-preservation,_ or are you not Slytherins?"

Vince and Greg scrambled off their seats and to Potter, towering over him. He nodded, still looking out the window - Draco supposed he was checking for Sirius Black.

They were all _doomed_.

"All right, both of you, backs to the door, put all your weight on it and make sure it _stays closed._ The latch isn't going to stay locked, knowing my luck."

Potter addressed all of them, "Now all of you need to calm down, find your Slytherin cunning, shut up and listen. Whatever or whoever, it will take a while before it gets here - we're somewhat in the middle. Get your wands out, be prepared to go down fighting."

Draco, Blaise and Pansy drew their wands and aimed them at the door, quivering with fright. Potter was going to get them _killed -_ though he seemed to know what he was doing - Potter was _thirteen_. They were mere children against Sirius Black. The Slytherin cabin was unnaturally quiet, and the rest of the train fell eerily silent. Draco pointed his wand at the door - looking at the latch - expelliarmus on his lips and prayed he wouldn't have to fight anything.

Potter put an arm on Vince, who was closest to the door latch and nodded at Greg. The two bulky Slytherins were shaking in fright.

"I know you're scared, but shove it aside for now," Potter whispered reassuringly, "You have a job to do. I won't let anything touch you."

Vince and Greg nodded, terrified out of their wits. Draco cursed Dumbledore for not having proper security measures with Sirius Black on the loose and likely looking for Potter - who would be on a highly accessible train with hundreds of other underage students. _We're barely thirteen. Potter is barely thirteen. We shouldn't have to face this kind of terror in our lives._

Greg whispered mutely, "You aren't so bad, Potter."

But then the window behind Pansy, Blaise and Draco started to ice over and then suddenly the door latch shook like someone was trying to open it. Vince and Greg pushed as hard as they can, and the others helped, but it wasn't any use. The door slid open incredibly slowly, but slid open anyway.

A bony, grey hand with long, claw-like nails was inching in, menacingly gripping the door. Vince was the closest to the hand and he whimpered but bravely continued to hold the door as much as he could.

Potter tried to reassure him, but then his eyes glazed over and Draco groaned and slapped him, trying and failing not to panic as his breaths came out in steamy clouds.

(Harry didn't feel it, he couldn't feel anything except hopeless despair and misery and _he could hear someone screaming_. He could hear Malfoy yelling at him, _Potter, snap out of it! Potter!_ But he couldn't. He was stuck. He was frozen. He was drowning.)

Draco saw Potter succumb to the Dementor's power. _Oh Merlin_ , he thought as the door was forced open even more and the Dementor poked its head in, looking directly at Potter. This was so much worse than Sirius Black. Vince shrieked and they all jumped away from the door. Draco dragged Potter as far away from the Dementor as he possibly could, and the bunch of Slytherins pressed up against the window.

With no resistance deterring it, the Dementor slowly pushed the door all the way open. It stood in the corridor and leaned towards them. Potter fainted, crumbling in Draco's arms.

"No! Fuck! Potter, don't do this! No! Fuck! Wake up!"

Pansy screamed and sank to the floor as the Dementor floated closer and Draco shut his eyes and mouth tight. He put a hand over Potter's mouth. Just - anything to stop the eventual Dementor's Kiss. He braced himself and -

Hello dear fanfiction readers! Please pardon if I have a few mistakes in earlier chapters because the proper version of this was originally published on AO3. But if any of you have tumblr, feel free to hit me up at .com and/or .com if you like my edits. also check out my beta, savingstrider. thank you for reading and hoping you enjoy! R&R!

Also, I update every week, but usually on Mondays (:


	9. The Hogwarts Express

The Dementor was practically _hurled_ back from the cabin; a misty, white wolf darting in and pouncing on it, forcing the Dementor away from the terrified Slytherins. It shrieked and glided away as fast as it could down the corridor.

A ragged man in shabby robes and scars across his face stood before them, "Is everyone okay?"

Draco stamped down on the fear that Sirius Black was standing in front of him and stuttered out, "P-Potter -"

The shabby man immediately reached for Potter, but Draco clutched Potter tighter. He demanded raspily, "W-Who are y-you?"

The shabby man held his hands up, eyes frantically searching Potter's face. He spoke quickly, "Professor Remus Lupin. Let me see him. Quickly now."

Draco nodded reluctantly and let the Professor take Harry to lay him down on the cabin seats. Professor Lupin put his ear to Potter's chest, breathed a sigh of relief and then stood up, moving towards the door.

Blaise screeched, "Where are you going?! Potter's still unconscious!"

The Professor opened his robes and grabbed something from his pocket, pushing it into Blaise's hands, "The Dementors are still on the train. I need to check on the other students. All of you eat this. Do whatever you can for Harry. I'll be back."

Draco spluttered angrily but the Professor was long gone. Pansy picked herself gingerly off the floor. She looked toward the door and Blaise slammed it shut, latched it and levitated their bags to block the door, just in case. Vince and Greg sat down on the other cabin seat in relief. Draco eyed Blaise's wand and Blaise shrugged, "They won't know it's me, the Professor was just in here."

Pansy lifted Potter's head gingerly and sat down, placing him back on her lap, ever the opportunist. She stroked his hair, eyeing the door distrustfully. Draco sat at Potter's feet, and stared blankly at Potter's troubled face. Blaise distributed the chocolate that Professor Lupin had given him. After a few bites of the delicious chocolate, the atmosphere seemed to lighten.

Someone knocked quietly at the cabin door a few minutes later, startling all of them and causing Pansy to shriek.

"It's me, Professor Lupin."

Blaise was the only one brave enough to approach the door, so he moved the bags and unlatched the door, letting Professor Lupin in.

Lupin immediately checked Potter over, then checked on the Slytherins. Pansy had a scrape on her knee from where she sank to the floor but he healed it quickly. Otherwise they were all fine. Lupin asked what happened and Pansy quietly recounted the ordeal. They sat in silence, waiting for Potter to wake up.

Potter woke up a little while later, blinking up blearily at Pansy, who was looking at him in concern. He shot up, almost hitting her head with his and asked, " _What the hell_! Parkinson are you all right?" Potter checked her for any damage.

Pansy smacked his hands, " _Potter_! Of course I'm fine. You're being weird. _You're_ the one that isn't all right."

Lupin spoke quietly, "Harry, she's fine. I did a check up on her a few minutes ago."

Potter whirled around, wand out and directed at Lupin, a frantic gleam in his eyes, "Who are you?!"

"Professor Remus Lupin. I was in the same cabin as you earlier, if Ms Granger and Mr Weasley were correct."

Potter lowered his wand, but eyed Lupin suspiciously. Lupin asked hesitantly, "Harry, are you all right? Any dizziness? Bruising? Headache?"

"I heard Pansy screaming," he blurted out, "when I was out. I heard her screaming like she was dying. Are you sure she's all right?"

Lupin blanched - a strange reaction, Draco thought. Then he turned to Potter, "Aren't Dementors supposed to bring out your worst memory?"

Lupin stood up abruptly, "Forgive me. I have to go check on the other students." He promptly walked out of the cabin.

Pansy turned her attention to Potter, "Like Draco said, why would your worst memory be me screaming?"

Potter seemed confused, so Draco explained slowly, like he would to an incredibly stupid person.

"Dementors are the guards of the wizard prison Azkaban. I'm guessing they were checking the train for Sirius Black. He's been sentenced to the Dementor's Kiss you see. Dementors are soul suckers. They suck away all your happy feelings and leave you with your worst memories. And if they get close enough, they could eventually suck your soul out - devour it. It's a fate many consider to be worse than death."

Potter went white as a sheet, "Memories?"

Potter stared blankly at his lap and the Slytherins left him to it. He seemed to be in shock, so Pansy continued to stroke his hair. Draco stood and pulled the curtains shut, latched the door and levitated the bags down again. Blaise sat down opposite as Vince and Greg got out their Exploding Snap deck. Just as Blaise, Vince and Greg were getting ready to start a round, the door to their cabin gave a lurch and Potter immediately jumped up, startling the already jumpy Slytherins.

The Weasel's voice called out and he started banging on the door, "OI YOU LOT IN THERE, OPEN UP WE'RE LOOKING FOR HARRY POTTER."

Draco sniffed affectedly and scowled at Potter, but Potter had slumped his shoulders in defeat and stared at his feet. Draco huffed and pushed Potter to sit down. Potter looked up in surprise and smiled a little. Draco rolled his eyes and pushed a stray hair back into place. He would never willingly subject anyone to the Weasel - not even Potter.

Draco beckoned Vince and Greg to flank him - blocking all view of Potter. Draco opened the door to Ronald Weasley and Hermione Granger, who recoiled immediately upon seeing the Slytherins.

"Weasel, Granger," Draco drawled, "some people aren't very easily amused by your Gryffindor obliviousness. Now, please leave and let the Dementors Kiss you."

Weasel spluttered and Granger made some noise of indignation but Draco slammed the door on them. Vince and Greg got back to their game with Blaise, and Draco sat down by Potter's side. In the time it had taken Draco to get rid of Potter's friends, Potter had miraculously allowed Pansy to hold his hand and rub it soothingly.

After Draco sat down, Blaise appraised Potter, running his dark eyes calculatively over the Gryffindor's slight frame, and then promptly put his feet in Potter's lap. Potter raised a delicate eyebrow but didn't say anything. Draco looked at the small, skinny boy and slung an arm around him like he'd seen Weasel do. He grimaced that he was emulating Weasel now, but Potter looked like he might crumble to dust and Draco once again felt the need to _do something_.

Potter stiffened, naturally. But he relaxed as the train ride went on in a comfortable silence, save for the sound of Exploding cards. The announcement that they were arriving soon came from a Hufflepuff perfect, and she looked surprised to see Harry Potter sitting amongst Slytherins. She made no comment and went on her way, after a vicious glare from Pansy.

Pansy left the cabin to change, swiping her fingers through Potter's hair one last time. Potter reached for his haversack and made to leave, but Blaise stopped him, "Potter, you don't have to leave. I _would_ like to be friends with the most Slytherin Gryffindor."

Blaise held his right palm to his heart - a pureblood gesture - and bowed slightly, "I'm Blaise Zabini."

Potter appraised Blaise with a calculative glint in his eye and stuck out a hand. He smirked, challenging, "Harry Potter."

Blaise scrunched his nose at Potter's hand, but accepted the challenge and shook it. Potter grinned and the Slytherins were literally shocked by the lightened atmosphere in the cabin, like the magic surrounding them responded to Potter's feelings. Draco felt like a jolt of something had zipped up his spine and looked at Potter in concealed suspicion.

The boys all changed out of their Wizards robes and Potter out of his more casual wizarding attire. Draco did a double-take when Potter took his shirt off and he saw the patches of yellowing bruises and the hint of Potter's ribs poking out. Vince and Greg winced, knowing the force it must have taken for Potter to have as large bruises as that, considering they'd issued similar to arsehole upper years. But arsehole upper years gunning for the Malfoy heir weren't as tiny as Potter.

Blaise and Draco shared a look and carried on changing. Potter was oblivious to the understanding that happened amongst the four Slytherins within the frame of a few seconds: _treat Potter well this year._

After Pansy returned and had a whispered conversation with Potter ("I'm Pansy Parkinson." "Harry Potter. I - Thank you for… whatever you did earlier." "You're welcome."), she and the rest of the boys left the cabin, leaving Draco and Potter behind.

Draco cleared his throat, "Potter."

Potter nodded cautiously, "Malfoy."

"Look, Potter. I know I was a twit the last two years, and I… I wanted to apologise. And I want to ask if we could start over."

Potter looked at him for a long moment and Draco twitched irritably under the scrutiny. The Gamekeeper was already assembling the first years, what was Potter waiting for? He was about to storm off and say "forget it" but then Potter stuck a hand out.

"I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

Draco rolled his eyes, but smiled, "I'm Draco Malfoy. Pleasure's all mine."

This time, Draco took his hand.

* * *

A/N: I am useless at fanfiction dot net. I completely forgot that urls cannot be typed out. anyway! here's a SURPRISE UPDATE! because I didn't want to leave the cliffie too long. like I mentioned in the previous chapter's A/N: my tumblr is batblade and my beta's is savingstrider. Read and Review! Tell me what y'all think.


	10. Hogwarts, Part 1

Crabbe and Goyle introduced themselves to Harry at their first meeting. Or Vince and Greg now that they were friends. The Slytherins had requested their newfound friendship with Harry be kept a secret, simply because their families were unlikely to be at all supportive and Slytherin politics would see them on the outs if it ever came to light. Harry was delighted to meet the people they really were behind the pureblood masks, and they met up two times a week before dinner in abandoned classrooms and secret corridors Harry found in his explorations with Fred and George.

Pansy Parkinson was an absolute delight. She was what he thought Hermione had been; highly intelligent, caring and righteous. Pansy had taken to mothering Harry, and helping him with his charms homework. He liked talking to her, and it was never awkward, not since that fateful train ride. They could talk about anything and everything under the Sun, and she taught him a lot about the Wizarding World and the social hierarchies. In turn, he told her about the Muggle world, and helped her with DADA homework. He was shocked to learn she was nobility, that Draco was as well.

"How does that work?" Harry asked the Slytherins one day in November. They were lounging about in the old music classroom on the 6th floor. Not many people wandered up there, since it was mainly the teachers quarters and confusing corridors. Blaise had found some old pillows in a locked cupboard, and after casting a few cleaning spells, and a couple of _Engorgio_ s, the group lounged about on the cushioned floor.

"My family's been in England for about twelve generations," Pansy said, "Our ancestral roots are in Korea. Father obeyed tradition and married a Korean girl, but raised me here. I know that's what you really meant to ask Harry. Don't worry, I'm not offended."

Harry blushed up at her from Pansy's lap. The both of them seemed to fall together that way ever since the train incident. "All right. So you're pure Korean?"

Pansy shrugged. She flipped a page of the magazine she was reading, "Occasionally someone would marry another race. But the Parkinson line stayed mostly Korean. We are nobility because my ancestor was a rebellious and unrefined heir apparent to a Count. He had no money of his own, spent most of it travelling. He courted a girl from a rich Korean family, she started a business and ran it, building their riches. He caused quite a scandal by taking her name instead when he married her."

Vince and Greg snickered. They were pretty much a packaged deal. Harry had had no idea how to talk to them, but then Vince had mentioned Quidditch and it all fell into place. Harry now knew more about Quidditch teams than he ever wanted to.

"Well, not all of us come from nobility Harry, I for one simply have my mother to thank for our infinite wealth and beauty," Blaise said.

"Why? What does she do?"

They all turned pitying gazes on him. Harry shifted nervously under their scrutiny. Blaise turned back to the Prophet, "When you're older Harry."

Blaise Zabini was… intriguing. He had always seemed the mysterious, Italian bad boy that had all the girls in a tizzy. But Harry now knew he was as in your face and brash as anyone could be.

Blaise liked to talk about various fashion and beauty products, and every time he saw Harry - regardless of day, time, or present company - he always flicked his wand and Harry's hair would shift into a styled mess, rather than just a mess. Harry had awkwardly yet amusedly turned down Cho Chang's request for a date.

Blaise also liked to argue with Harry about various political movements in both Muggle and Wizarding worlds. He confided in Harry that he was gay, and Harry hadn't even blinked before Blaise had coined him bisexual. Harry had no idea what any of that meant so he just nodded and let Blaise talk about the advancing movement for gay rights in the Wizarding World.

"What about you Draco?"

Draco picked at his nails, he seemed perfectly comfortable in the lone wooden chair in the room, sitting properly and looking down at all of them. He puffed up in pride, "Malfoys are French. We are not the main line, they stayed in France. My grandfather, Abraxas Malfoy was first generation English. We are a wealthy pureblood French family, but Grandfather and Father secured our assets in England. The nobility comes from my mother actually. There were no other options for the Black main line to pass on their title, so it went to her."

"Wait, _Black_? Like _Sirius Black_?" Harry shot up, knocking his head into Pansy's magazine. Draco stiffened, and avoided looking at Harry, instead picking at his nails, "Yes. He's my mother's first cousin."

Harry gaped and then shrugged. _He_ couldn't help but be related to the Dursleys, why was Draco's relation to Sirius Black any different?

"Do you think he knows about you?"

Draco relaxed minutely, "Doubt it. He was disowned when Mother was still in her teens."

Draco Malfoy was annoyingly perfect, in Harry's opinion. He and Harry got along like a house on fire the moment they put aside their enmity and competitiveness, though he was still a pompous arse most of the time. They talked about Quidditch, they talked about school, they talked a little bit about Harry's life with the Dursleys and Draco's life with Lucius Malfoy as a father. They talked about Snape's hatred for Harry and Dumbledore's obvious favouring and the first Wizarding war.

They gossiped like a pair of old ladies ("Did you _see_ who came down to breakfast with Cedric Diggory today?" "Cho Chang! I _know_. She's so creepy.") and went on adventures around the castle when Pansy and Blaise started talking about the latest Wizarding fashion. Draco and him went in search of the Hogwarts kitchens, after Harry received a tip off from Fred and George. The duo found Dobby, and the whole story had come out about Draco eavesdropping on his parents and Dobby trying to clean his muddy boots and _accidentally_ eavesdropping as well.

("You impersonated Vince and Greg? With _Polyjuice_? How did you even -")

Harry also reconnected with Remus Lupin, his father's best friend and occasional babysitter when Harry was a baby. Remus began to teach Harry the Patronus Charm after Harry's stoic reasoning for defending himself.

"The school is surrounded by Dementors, Professor. I won't allow myself to become their victim."

"The Patronus Charm is a very complex and highly advanced spell, Harry, and do call me Remus when we're in private," Remus said. They were in his office. Remus was grading papers while Harry fussed with a Rubix Cube Remus had procured in his time living amongst Muggles.

"I defeated a giant snake out to kill me in second year, Remus," Harry deadpanned, "At least let me try."

Remus had thrown his hands up in the air in exasperation and agreed, to Harry's great delight. Harry would secretly spend most of his Saturday evenings in the company of the DADA Professor, talking about his parents, the Marauders, practicing the Patronus Charm, and doing homework - though never DADA.

Remus eventually told him the truth about Sirius Black that all the adults wanted to keep from him.

"He - He's my _what?"_

"Your godfather. If the Headmaster hadn't had you taken away to the Dursleys as soon as it happened, Sirius Black would've had every right to take you. He is your legal guardian."

"Was -," Harry swallowed painfully, "Was he the reason Voldemort knew about my parents? About me?"

Remus looked down at the boy in front of him with sorrowful and pained eyes.

"Yes."

Harry flew into a rage in Remus' office, cursing Sirius Black every foul word he'd learned from Vernon and Dudley Dursley. By the time he'd calmed down, Remus' things were almost completely destroyed. Harry crumpled and apologised profusely. He'd wrecked a _Professor's office._ Remus winced at his damaged things - a result of Harry's Magical outburst - and _Reparo_ 'd everything he could.

"I'm so sorry Professor Lupin. I promise to reimburse everything."

"Nonsense, Harry. You don't need to do for the last time, call me Remus."

"But Remus -"

"Harry, really, everything is fine."

"No Remus, I know you're struggling and I know I've probably just destroyed everything you held dear. Most of them were falling apart anyway. My dad wouldn't have let one of his best friends suffer like this. Especially not one who was looking out for me the way you are now."

"Harry -"

"Shush, Remus. It's happening whether you like it or not. You're going to find yourself on the receiving end of access to the Potter Vaults -"

"WHAT! Harry, you can't do that! I absolutely refuse -"

"Remus, you're my father figure now. Take the responsibility."

Remus looked at Harry in shock and incredulity. Harry stood firm though he shifted awkwardly at his deep attachment to Remus. Remus crossed over and hugged Harry hard, but careful not to crush the small boy.

"All right. All right. You're _every bit_ as stubborn as James."

"Good."

"You're quite a Slytherin aren't you?"

"Yes, I've been told."

* * *

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My CONSTRUCTIVE/ POSITIVE reviewers: LOVE Y'ALL. Thank you for leaving lovely comments.

A/N: Don't hate. Participate (: R&R y'all!


	11. Hogwarts, Part 2

Harry spent most of his time in the mornings and afternoons with Ron and Hermione, who liked to talk of nothing but schoolwork and Sirius Black and Dumbledore. Ron was constantly pestering him for details about Black and Hermione would always get onto his case about slacking off in class.

("Surely Dumbledore's told you something about Black?"

"Harry doesn't have time, Ronald. His potions marks are preposterous. Do you even try Harry?"

"Well, Snape's a right slimy git though. He's always taking points off me and Harry. Just because you're working with Parkinson -"

"She's an absolute cow, Ron. I think I'm suffering more than you.")

Fred and George began hanging around him more, and when the trio split up - or rather Harry escaped from Ron and Hermione - the twins would continue to follow him around. Harry was late to his meeting with Draco and Blaise - they were going to break into the bell tower today - but the twins were constantly appearing at the most inopportune moments.

He turned around and glared at the Weasley twins, who shrunk back. He turned to Fred, "Fred, would you _kindly_ explain why you're following me around like a couple of baby ducks?"

Fred scoffed, "I'm not Fred, I'm George."

Harry stomped his foot and the twins' raised their eyebrows in amusement.

" _Yes_ , YOU are Fred and _that_ is George and _I'm_ not _stupid_."

George asked in amusement, "You can tell us apart?"

Harry looked at the ceiling in exasperation, "Yes George, I can tell you apart."

Fred asked, "How?"

Harry continued looking at the ceiling, "Really, Fred, it's not that hard. And why are you so concerned about this anyway?"

Fred and George shared a look of surprise. Harry hadn't even had to look at them to tell them apart. They nodded at each other. George spoke up, "No one's been able to tell the difference between us. Not even Lee. Even he messes up most of the time."

Harry huffed, but smiled at George, "Look, I appreciate that you're serious about the offer of friendship, but I've got things I need to do. Private things. I really have to go and I can't have you two following me around all the time. I get enough of that from Ron and Hermione."

Harry winced, remembering he was speaking to Ron's brothers. But all Fred and George did was beam at him, slap him on the back and carry on their merry way, discussing a prank on the Hufflepuffs.

Fred and George quite suddenly became Harry's buffers from Ron and Hermione. They couldn't ask him about Sirius Black with Fred and George there, and when Ron would go off on a tangent about one of his stories, George would slap him on the head and tell him to shut up. Meanwhile, when Hermione started lecturing Harry, Fred would make a huge scene and yell, "Granger's Madame Pince impression is spot on! Come watch!" Hermione would glare and tackle her homework with renewed aggression.

By February, Fred and George became his closest friends, and Harry told them about Sirius Black. He told them everything, including the new details he learned from Remus that he'd kept from Ron and Hermione. They gave him counsel in tackling his emotions.

Fred looked at Harry seriously, "You've got to deal with this Harry. You've already been through so much. Bill told us about all these mental illnesses when we were helping Ginny recover and it sounds like you've got some self-evaluation to do."

"Yeah," George added, "Talk to Professor Lupin, come to terms with it. It'll help you to have a clearer mind."

Harry nodded, "How's Ginny by the way? I haven't had the chance to speak to her much this year."

George rolled his eyes, "She's much better. Fred and I followed her around for _ages_ in November - got detention for missing class too. Ginny told us off and said she was fine. Threatened to write to _Bill_. Bloody embarrassed about her friends all fawning over us, she is."

They told him about their dreams for setting up a prank shop, and their mother's disapproval.

"Wants us to join the Ministry ' _just like Percy'._ 'Get a respectful job' she says," grumbled Fred.

Harry shrugged deliberately, picking at his nails, "I've got the money, I'd be happy to invest, but do you two even have products yet? Or are you still messing around with Zonko's?"

Fred and George gaped and then disappeared for the entire weekend, explosions came from their room at odd hours of the day and night. Lee slept on the couch in the common room that weekend.

Eventually, the truth came out. Fred and George nervously told him about Mrs Weasley's orders to tail Harry and keep an eye on him.

"Whatever for? I thought your mother didn't like me?" Harry lounged on the spare bed in the twins' room. Lee was off trying to woo Alicia Spinnet.

Fred shrugged, scratching his nose, "No idea. Said Dumbledore asked her to do it and she passed the 'mission' on to us."

"That's… slightly creepy and a little disturbing."

"Yeah, she wrote to Ron, Ginny and Percy too. Probably why Ron keeps asking you about Sirius Black. Ginny actually likes you and told Mum she wouldn't do it. Told her she had a lot of schoolwork to catch up on since she missed most of her first year. Shut Mum right up."

"What about Percy?"

Fred snorted, "Percy couldn't give a rat's arse about you. All he wants is to be the best Humongous Bighead ever. Aiming for a position in the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

It seemed like Fred and George knew something that Harry didn't and he got tired of their questioning looks over dinner. Ignoring Ron and Hermione - who were bickering about Scabbers and Crookshanks again - he hissed at the older boys, "What are you looking at? Why d'you two look like you know something I don't?"

"Well… we're waiting for you to tell us actually," whispered George.

"What?!" But Ron had literally dragged Harry back into the argument. He examined Fred and George discretely over the next couple of days, and their eyes seemed to dart across to the Slytherin table more often than not. They didn't know, did they? _How_ would they know?

Harry went off for his meeting with the Slytherins, fondly calling their little group The Silver Circle to Draco's utmost horror. He spoke to them about the Weasley twins and whether they'd be all right with adding the two into their little motley crew. Blaise had blurted out "Absolutely!" before anybody could say anything. Pansy and Draco scrutinised Blaise intensely until the dark boy blushed - which was saying something because Blaise was so dark you could never tell - and then proceeded to give Harry their permission. Harry, Vince and Greg looked at each other in confusion and shrugged at the Silver Trio's antics.

Harry told Fred and George about the Slytherins, and to his utmost confusion and indignation, they had replied "We know."

"How do you know? Does the whole bloody school know? They could get into serious trouble!"

"Relax Harry," Fred said, "We've got this special thing that lets us know where everybody is every hour of every day. And when we were following you around, we used it to track you and saw you hanging out with a bunch of Slytherins."

Harry spluttered, "Does anybody _else_ have access to this thing? What is it?"

George has uttered cheekily, "It's one of our pranking tools. Don't ask us to give away our secrets, Harold. Anyway, the thing only works for people who have the password - so just me and Freddie."

Harry huffed irritably but was appeased. He introduced Fred and George to the Slytherins. Blaise eagerly introduced himself to both of them and Fred responded in kind. While he and Blaise were talking about some prank or other, Pansy introduced herself to George, who - shockingly - bowed at the waist and kissed her hand.

"I thought the Weasleys were disinclined towards pureblood customs," she said. George grinned cheerfully, "We are."

Pansy proceeded to talk Charms with George. Harry and Draco were a bit put off that their friends were getting along splendidly and ignoring them. Vince and Greg had immediately challenged the Weasleys to an Exploding Snap game and the four of them arrived to dinner with singed eyebrows.

Fred and George began to spend more time apart from each other, and the population of Hogwarts were stunned to see George come into the Great Hall for lunch one day without Fred by his side. The twins spent a lot of time with the Slytherins, and Pansy tried to get them to study for their OWLs properly. They refused to do anything that wasn't Charms, Transfiguration, Potions or DADA, but they excelled at those, so Pansy wasn't too worried about their lack of job opportunities or NEWT level subjects.

Blaise and Fred liked to disappear off for hours at a time on the weekends and when Draco asked Fred what they were up to, Fred had grinned and said they were collecting potions ingredients. Harry rolled his eyes, they really _did_ collect potions ingredients. Harry had no idea what they were so happy about.

George and Pansy had sighed in exasperation when Harry asked them about it. They were charming the old music room to be spotless and clean again. Harry lay on the newly cleaned desk and looked at Pansy in question.

"Harry," she sighed, "Has Blaise talked to you about his preferences?"

Harry scrunched up his nose, "Yeah, he says he's gay, which I assume you both know since he tells me he tells everyone that. He keeps telling me I'm bisexual."

George rolled his eyes, "Well, Harold, Fred has the same preferences, though I'm not sure he realises."

Harry cleaned his glasses on his shirt, "So, what? They're gay best friends now?"

Pansy and George exchanged a long-suffering look. Three… two… one…

"WAIT. THEY'RE _TOGETHER_?"

"No, Harry. But I'm pretty sure Blaise likes Fred," Pansy said, before banishing the dust that covered the tabletops.

"And Freddie doesn't know he plays for the same team yet," said George, "Pretty sure Blaise can sense his inert gayness, so he's trying to bring it out."

"Fred just thinks Blaise is really cool. He doesn't realise it's attraction or destiny."

George made a face, "Oh gross Pans, don't use words like ' _destiny',_ you sound like those romance novels my mum reads."

Harry appraised them through narrowed eyes, "So... are you two a thing then?"

Pansy and George looked at each other, cocked their heads simultaneously as if considering it, and then laughed like Harry had told a hilarious joke. Harry huffed.

George wiped a tear from his eye, "Good one, mate. But don't worry, me and Pansy are just friends."

"And not the way Blaise and Fred are 'friends' so don't even ask, Potter."

Harry pouted and George laughed. George slung an arm over Harry and they walked to Gryffindor tower.

"Come on, we've got Quidditch training in a bit and I don't doubt that Oliver will yell if we're late."

"D'you think Fred will make it back on time?"

"Nope."

* * *

hello loves, i almost forgot to post today, but no matter! i succeeded in publishing before bedtime. R&R, happy reading!


	12. Hogsmeade, Part 1

" _Harry_ ," Ron whined, "come on! Just get the cloak and walk out! No one even has to know."

Harry rolled his eyes, "All right! All right! I'll do it. I'll meet you there in a bit."

Hermione sniffed, "I still don't think you should do it Harry. They gave us permission slips for a reas -"

"Oh come off it 'Mione! Harry's got an _invisibility cloak._ Might as well use it. We'll see you in a bit mate! Don't take too long!"

With that, Ron dashed away, pulling Hermione with him. Harry sighed; forlorn. He knew Ron and Hermione only wanted to keep a close eye on him, as per Dumbledore's orders. They weren't very good at it, from the way Harry managed to escape them for hours at a time without them finding him.

The Silver Circle had puffed up in anger when Harry had told him about Ron's spying habit. It had taken an hour for Harry to talk Draco down from hexing Ron senseless. And he only agreed because Fred and George were still Ron's brothers. The Slytherins were all willing to stay behind with Harry, but Harry had steadfastly refused and demanded they go to Hogsmeade. Fred and George were staying behind with Harry, and no matter how much Harry tried to bargain, the Silver Circle said it was either all of them or only the twins. Harry had reluctantly chosen the twins to their delight.

He walked up to the dorm, grabbed his haversack and put on his invisibility cloak. Trudging through the snowy grounds of Hogwarts, he saw Fred and George building a snowman in the courtyard. He went behind a pillar, looked around for anybody watching, and took off his cloak. Stuffing it in his haversack, he walked to Fred and George.

They looked up at him at the same time, "Harry!"

"Fred. George. I think I've got a way for me to get out of Hogwarts."

"Why Harry!" George exclaimed dramatically, "We were about to say the same thing!"

"What?"

The twins hooked their arms into Harry's and jigged all the way back into the castle, to the amusement of the students they passed. They dragged him up into their dorm.

"Why've you got two empty beds by the way?"

"Well Harold," came Fred's muffled voice from underneath his bed, "George and I are not exactly the best roommates to have -"

"- Lee's our friend and he's almost as bad as us, so he's okay with it -"

"- but the rest of the Fifth year boys aren't as happy with having to share a room with the greatest pranksters since the Marauders -"

Harry startled. _The Marauders._ Remus had told Harry of their adventures. His father, Peter Pettigrew, Sirius Black and Remus. Harry thought any trace of their adventures was long gone, only to be shared by Remus and tainted by the deaths of two best friends and the betrayal of one.

"The Marauders?" Harry asked innocently.

George popped up from his bed, waving a folded piece of parchment in the air, "Found it Freddie!"

"Excellent!" Fred popped up, a dirty sock atop his fiery hair. Harry giggled and Fred shook his head, dislodging the sock. George gave Harry the piece of parchment.

"What's this rubbish?"

Fred gasped, "' _What's this rubbish_ ' he says! This, dear Harold, is the secret to our success."

"This is the thing that tells you where everybody is?"

"Every hour -"

"Of every minute -"

"Of every day!"

Harry stared at the twins worriedly, "You do realise this is a blank piece of parchment."

They rolled their eyes simultaneously. Fred tapped his wand to the parchment and ink began to spread. Harry yelped and dropped it - it reminded him too much of Tom Riddle's Diary.

George had dived after the map, scandalised. "Harry!"

"Are you sure that thing isn't sentient? It looks exactly like that bloody diary did."

Fred and George paled and George chucked the parchment away from them.

"W-We didn't know that's what the diary did," Fred stuttered, terrified.

"What's written on it?" Harry asked calmly, going into his Saviour mode.

"It's called the Marauders' Map -"

Harry immediately relaxed. "Oh. I'm sorry. False alarm. You can pick it up, it's safe."

Fred and George looked quite frightened so Harry picked up the map himself. Written on it as clear as day:

 **Messrs Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs are proud to present the Marauders' Map.**

Harry snorted, "Moony. Oh, he'll never hear the end of it from me."

The Map suddenly changed layout, and then written in the middle:

 **Messr Moony would like to inquire what is so funny about his name.**

 **Messr Prongs would like to say that anyone making fun of Messr Moony's name would get a kick to the face.**

 **Messr Padfoot would like to add in a great big chewing out.**

 **Messr Wormtail would like to know who made fun of Messr Moony.**

Fred and George had come over and looked at the Map, "Oh yeah, it did that when we first got it too."

"Had to tell them we were pranksters before they let us in."

"Geniuses they were. Whoever they were. We owe them so much."

Harry smirked and decided to give Fred and George the revelation of their lives. He cleared his throat.

"I am Harry Potter."

On the map, the ink reformed:

 **Potter?**

"Yes. I am Harry Potter, son of James Potter."

Fred and George were extremely intrigued by now, the Map had never responded this way before. Harry felt a tingling sensation rush up his fingertips.

The Map turned blank, and then:

 **Welcome to the Marauders' Map, Harry Potter, son of Prongs. The password is 'I solemnly swear that I am up to no good'.**

Fred and George looked at Harry in awe.

Fred asked breathlessly, "Son of Prongs?"

Harry smirked and then Fred and George had fallen to their knees, "All hail the heir of the Marauders. May you guide us in your mischievous ways."


	13. Hogsmeade, Part 2

Once they were done, they huddled over the Map.

"So?" George asked excitedly, "How'd you know about the Marauders? We only found out about them during detention with Filch."

"You know Professor Lupin?"

Fred rolled his eyes, "What, he was the Prefect that hounded the Marauders?"

Harry smirked, "Well, you've met Moony."

Fred gasped and George fell off the bed. He choked out from the floor, "Professor Lupin is _Moony?"_

"Yes," Harry said primly.

The twins looked at each other in awe, "I'm _so_ glad we do his homework."

Then Fred sobered, "So… Padfoot and Wormtail…"

Harry's voice hardened, "Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew."

Fred nodded. The silence was sticking for a moment, but then Harry chirped, "So, what was your idea for getting out of the castle?"

"Right," said George authoritatively, "There are seven secret passages out of Hogwarts -"

"- three of them have collapsed, we've checked -"

"- there's one under the Whomping Willow but we haven't got a clue how to get in or where it goes to -"

"- there's this one behind the mirror -"

"That one's caved in Fred."

"By golly, you're right! Didn't remember that one."

"Anyway, the way for us to get to Hogsmeade is through the one-eyed witch passage -"

"Yeah it'll take us straight through to Honeydukes cellar."

"Us?" Harry asked in surprise, "You two can walk straight out without anyone batting an eyelid. You've got permission slips!"

Fred scratched his nose, "We aren't too fond of the Dementors prowling about. Anyway, what was your thing to share?"

Harry grinned and reached for his haversack. He pulled out the invisibility cloak, proudly presenting it to Fred and George.

"A wizard's cloak," George deadpanned.

Harry's grin widened and he put the cloak around him, disappearing up till his head. Fred and George gaped at him.

"Merlin! That's an invisibility cloak!" George exclaimed excitedly.

Harry took it off and put in back into his haversack. "Yeah, I reckon we could all fit inside if the two of you bend down a little."

"Sweet."

"What are we waiting for? Let's go!"

Harry and the twins ran through the castle, ignoring the suspicious looks on the Professors faces. Harry grinned at Remus as they tore past the DADA classroom. Remus looked at the three troublemakers in bewilderment.

They finally reached the statue of the one-eyed witch. Checking the Map to make sure no one was around, Fred tapped his wand to the hump and whispered, " _Dissendium_."

They slid down the passageway and trekked slowly towards Hogsmeade, discussing their plans. "I'm going to Zonko's first. We're running low on stink bombs. Freddie's probably going to find his snake -"

"Blaise is not my snake!"

Harry and George shared a look and said at the same time, "He sort of is, mate."

Fred frowned petulantly and Harry and George erupted into peals of laughter. The trio fell silent as they approached the end of the tunnel. The twins - being more muscular - lifted up the stone floor an inch to scout the area. Mr Honeyduke was just leaving the cellar, ambling up the stairs. They waited for him to leave and then the twins lifted the stone gate off and to the side. George grumbled, "Should put a latch and a Lightening Charm on that thing. We'll do that tomorrow all right lads?"

Fred and Harry grunted in exertion, pulling the floor piece back into place. Harry quickly took out the invisibility cloak and threw it over Fred, who was closest. "You next George."

He had the twins crouch until their feet couldn't be seen and then got under the cloak himself.

"Harry!" George exclaimed in a posh London accent, "Fancy seeing you here, old boy! However did you find us?"

Harry giggled and shushed them, "It's an invisibility cloak, not a sound-proof cloak. Come on."

The trio of mischief makers climbed awkwardly up the stairs and brushed past Mrs Honeyduke as she was tending the counter. She squeaked in shock, but when she whirled around and didn't see anything she shrugged it off. The trio made their way to the exit, dodging students left, right and centre. It was surprisingly easy. Harry supposed the twins made up for their bulky statures by being incredibly stealthy and cat-like.

Once out of Honeyduke's, they shuffled into a back alley away from prying eyes, and Fred and George stepped out from the cloak. Harry lowered it to his neck as the twins righted their clothes. Fred grinned maniacally at Harry's floating head, "That was fun, we should do it again sometime. Well, I'm off. See you gents back at Hogwarts."

Fred ran off and George snickered. He looked to Harry, "Zonko's?"

Harry nodded and put the invisibility cloak back on. George walked seemingly alone to Zonko's, raising eyebrows amongst the students and Hogsmeade residents. The Weasley twins were quite infamous as a duo. Harry saw Ron and Hermione and ducked behind George, despite his invisibility.

"Oi Fred!" called Ron, wrongly identifying the present twin, "Where's George?"

"Where do you think he is Ronniekins? Zonko's of course. Really Ron, I'd thought with the amount of time you spent with Granger you'd be able to deduce that."

Ron rolled his eyes as Hermione huffed indignantly, "You seen Harry?"

George spoke slowly, like he was speaking to someone incredibly stupid, "Harry isn't allowed to come to Hogsmeade Ronnie, so no."

Harry almost couldn't hold in his snicker.

Ron narrowed his eyes, "Weren't you supposed to be watching him in the castle? Why are you and George here?"

George picked at his nails, "Well, he went up to the dorm, and then we couldn't find him afterwards so we thought he might've gone to talk to Ginny or something."

Hermione and Ron exchanged an obvious look and Harry rolled his eyes. It was a wonder the whole population of Hogsmeade didn't know Harry was there.

George and Harry left the two third years after George recommended they check out the Shrieking Shack. They passed Draco, Vince and Greg, who ignored George as per protocol - though Draco threw him a glare that said, _we are going to talk about this later_ and _I can't believe you left Harry alone_ \- and brushed past, whispering and laughing. Harry smiled fondly, but George was staring after them, watching the Slytherin trio turn down the path to the Shrieking Shack.

"Harry," George mumbled, his lips only parting slightly, "I think you should follow Draco. I've got a feeling he's about to revert to his pratty tendencies."

Harry whispered into George's ear, "It's fine, George. Draco's not the same guy we knew -"

"Harry, I know the two of you are chums, and I _like_ Draco, I really do. But he's still pro-pureblood and he still has that mean streak, even if it's no longer targeted at you," George fiddled with his pocket so he wouldn't look like he was awkwardly standing around, "He's still the same person Harry - that hasn't changed. You're just seeing the nicer side of him. He's still prejudiced and mean and vicious. But you _can_ curb that at least. Hurry, I have a _very bad_ feeling."

Harry didn't see what George's issue was, but it couldn't hurt to follow. He could hang out with Draco, Vince and Greg if George was just being paranoid. He walked briskly through the snow, following the path the Slytherin trio had taken towards the Shrieking Shack. He spotted the trio swaggering up the hill, and was about to call out when he saw two figures standing atop it, looking at the Shack. Was that - was that Ron and Hermione? Harry realised with startling clarity that Draco, Vince and Greg were headed straight for them.

"God damn it George," he cursed and ran straight for the hill. He couldn't risk calling out to Draco because it would blow their cover, and if he called out to Ron and Hermione at this rate, Draco, Vince and Greg would hear it in full view of the two of them and their 'cover' would be blown. No matter what, their cover would be blown. And the bloody annoying thing was that Harry could give a rat's arse about revealing his friendship with the Slytherins, were it not for the unfair and biased House separations, the political climate in Slytherin and in the Pureblood Society. He valued his friends' safety above all else, but they weren't making it easy for him to keep them safe.

George was right; Harry _knew_ Draco. He experienced Draco's nastiness and viciousness first hand. He was cruel and cutting without even trying, and he was a right bloody impulsive git. Vince and Greg were followers, not leaders. He couldn't blame them because Draco was the 'top dog' in Slytherin Third Year. Slytherin politics confused him, but he knew enough that power was important in Slytherin. Power equated to respect and authority. And Draco, the bloody idiot, was trying to assert his dominance - or something equally stupid - over Ron and Hermione, the 'top dogs' of Gryffindor.

Harry groaned, because what made it worse was that the Weasleys and Malfoys had been feuding for generations, so Draco had a natural bias against Ron - the epitome of Weasley-ness. Not only that, but Draco was raised to a mindset of irrational bias against Muggleborns. And what Draco liked to do with these biases was increase his targeting of said biases. Meaning: he would effortlessly and viciously attack Ron and Hermione's weak points, and things would escalate and Harry didn't want to deal with that.

* * *

 **Author's Note:**

hello! shout-out to melaniemart-inez on tumblr. she likes drarry a lot. check out savingstrider if you haven't and my tumblr is batblade, hit me up!

ANGST IN THE NEXT FEW CHAPTERS WAHAHAHA. savingstrider says it's "character development" but I call it "what the fuckity fuck is happening in their brains?" (: hope you look forward to it.

R&R as always!


	14. The Shrieking Shack

"Weaselbee, Mudblood, looking for a family home?" Draco mocked as he, Vince and Greg approached the Gryffindor duo.

"You shut your mouth Malfoy," Weasel yelled. Granger was eyeing them haughtily, but not without a little fear in her eyes. Draco _relished_ it.

Draco tutted loftily, " _Goodness_ , did Mummy never teach you manners? Well I suppose in between having ridiculous amounts of children and stuffing her face -"

Weasel lunged at him, but Granger held him back. Vince and Greg loomed menacingly, cracking their knuckles. Weasel stood his ground, shaking Granger's hand off his arm. Draco smirked.

"Leave us alone, Malfoy, or I'll hex you until even Mummy dearest won't look at you," Granger sneered. Draco blinked in shock, and then narrowed his eyes in anger.

"How _dare_ you speak of my mother, you filthy little _mudblood_!"

Weasel smirked, and Draco cursed internally, knowing he'd given them ammunition. "Oh, is the little albino afraid his Mummy won't love him anymore? Well at least she'd be normal then, bloody inbred and mental as she is now."

Draco growled in furious rage, and Weasel's smirk grew. His blue eyes narrowed at Draco, and he sneered, "Don't like it when it's _your_ Mum now, do you?"

Draco drew his wand, uncaring of the underage magic restriction and the Diffindo charm about to leave his lips when, suddenly, his vision was obscured, and he felt a sludgy something dripping down his face. Draco coughed and spat out, disgusted. He wiped his face with the back of his favourite gloves, spitting mad. All of them whirled around, looking for the unknown attacker.

"Who's there! Show yourself you coward!" Draco hissed.

A moment later, mud smacked into Vince's arm. And then Greg was pelted right in the chest. Weasel and Granger were laughing their arses off - unmuddied and clean. The mud stopped then and Draco looked around in fright. He tripped over suddenly and as he landed on his back in the hard snow, he thought he might've had a concussion because Harry Potter's floating head was looking down on him in amusement.

And Draco felt like something had shattered inside him, but he didn't know what. He just felt so _stupid_. Weasel and Granger were laughing even harder now, and Draco was covered in mud, in disarray, humiliated, in pain and _betrayed_. He felt Vince and Greg pull him up. It felt like it'd been minutes since he saw Harry's floating face but in reality, it was mere seconds. Vince muttered, "Draco. Let's go." Vince and Greg hurriedly ushered Draco away, but not before Draco looked over his shoulder, eyes connecting with Potter's and he didn't know what emotion he had allowed past his pureblood mask, but Potter suddenly didn't look so amused. Draco couldn't understand it. He didn't want to so much as look at Potter anymore, let alone be near him. What was happening to him?

He shrugged out of Vince's grip and ran off back to the castle, ignoring Vince and Greg calling out and trying to follow. He pushed past numerous Hogwarts students, ignoring their cries of indignation and surprise at his dirty state. He swore he heard someone _laughing_. He ignored George as he bolted past, as per protocol. He ignored Fred and Blaise in their secluded spot near the path to Hogwarts, ignored them calling his name. He brushed past Pansy and Millicent in the Slytherin common room, keeping his eyes to the floor, his vision blurry. Draco stalked up to his dorm, cast a silent cleaning spell, and sank heavily onto his bed.

His vision was blurring and his lungs felt like they weren't working. A frantic knock at the door startled him but he ignored it. He felt like he really wanted to be left alone right now. The door opened anyway, and he turned to see Pansy, Blaise and two unknown upper years striding into the room. When Pansy saw him, she gasped and put her hand to her mouth.

"Close the door and lock it," she whispered to one of the unknown upper years. Draco blinked rapidly to clear his vision (he couldn't let the upper years have an advantage over him) and was startled to feel something on his cheek. He faintly heard someone murmuring a spell to lock the door as he touched his cheek and it came away wet. Was- Was he _crying_? He couldn't remember the last time he cried. Father had always -

"Oh Draco, what happened?" Pansy cooed softly, wrapping an arm around his shoulders, like Mother used to do when he was little and Father wasn't home.

He roughly wiped at his eyes with the sleeves of his coat, ignoring Pansy's tutting. He looked up and glared at the upper years, but was surprised to see Fred and George in their stead. He looked away from them quickly, shaking his head.

"Nothing."

George - at least he thought it was George - stepped forward and sat beside him, "Mate… _Draco_. Does this have anything to do with Harry?"

Draco looked up in panic, "How do you know? Does everyone know now? Bloody _fu_ -"

"Draco, _please_ ," Pansy said, "What happened?"

He didn't know what happened. He didn't want to talk to Pansy and Blaise with the Weasley twins standing there. What happened had involved their brother after all. He looked forward blankly, wiping all trace of emotion from his face, his perfect pureblood mask barely hanging on by a thread.

"It involves your brother. I doubt you'd want to hear anything that paints him in a negative light."

Fred sighed and scrubbed his face with his hand, "Draco, we are his brothers, but _you_ are our _friend_. Just - just tell us what happened and we promise - no, we _swear_ that we won't ditch our friendship with you - with _any of you_ \- for it."

He and George put their hands over their hearts, a distinctly pureblood gesture. Draco had barely nodded his acceptance before he was heaving into Pansy's pink blouse.

"W-We saw Weasel and Granger. I got m-mad."

He sniffled and dropped his face into his hands, "They'd left Harry all alone. I-I…"

"It's okay, Draco. What happened after?" Pansy asked, stroking his head.

"W-We followed th-them. Went to the - the Shrieking Shack. I started the fight. Said all the u-usual things. Called Granger a Mudblood."

Fred and George winced, but George took Draco's hands away from his face. Surprisingly, Draco let him. George held Draco's hand in his, rubbing soothing motions, like he had seen Bill do with Ginny.

"Granger… she said something about Mother… and I-I just saw red. And I reacted stupidly - not at all like a pureblood. And Weasel picked up on it and he used Mother against me. Insulted her. He called her _mental_! He called her _inbred_! Bloody bastard. _He knows nothing!"_

Draco clenched his hand tight in anger, causing George to wince. Draco had stopped crying and was ranting furiously, his tone sharp and cutting and cold. He stood up in rage.

"And then out of _nowhere_ I have mud thrown in my face! And then Vince got hit and then Greg got hit and then I fell. And then fucking _Potter's_ face is looking down at me and smirking. His head was floating! What the bloody fuck is going on? Am I losing my mind? And then I don't know what happened. I just - I felt like something inside me broke. _I don't have a bloody clue what's going on_!"

He slumped suddenly, tears flooding in, continued to choke out despite his friends' shock, "He fucking - he fucking _humiliated_ us in front of Weasel and Granger. Threw mud at us. Brought us down to Granger's level. Didn't do a _thing_ to stop Weasel or Granger, no. He took _us_ out instead. Potter was never our friend. Probably thought it'd be fun to drag us down from the inside. The whole school will know about it by tomorrow. Everyone in Hogsmeade probably saw us. We're _ruined_. All respect, all power - _gone_! Weasel and Granger won't shut up about it. Potter will probably encourage them, the bloody Gryffindor bastard."

He sobbed and rasped softly, "I _hate_ him."

Blaise interrupted, kneeling down in front of his distraught friend- he'd never seen a pureblood behave like this before, but he tried his best to help Draco, "Draco. You don't mean that. It couldn't have been Harry -"

"It's _Potter_ , Blaise. He never was Harry. That was all _fake_. A trick to get him inside our heads -"

"Draco!" Pansy said firmly, though her voice shook, "That is not true. Harry's our friend Draco. You know him best out of all of us, except maybe Fred and George -"

"I THOUGHT I KNEW HIM! I DIDN'T! I BLOODY WELL DIDN'T," Draco stood up abruptly and shouted.

"HE LAUGHED AT ME PANSY. HE KNEW HOW MUCH HE HUMILIATED ME. HE THREW MUD AT ME. HE'S PROBABLY SPREADING WORD OF OUR COMPLETE FALL FROM GRACE WITHOUT A CARE IN THE WORLD THAT WE ARE GOING TO SUFFER FOR IT. WHAT WILL MY FATHER THINK? I'M _DEAD_ PANSY!"

Draco whirled around and aimed his wand at Fred, who raised his hands up, palms open in surrender, completely shocked. Blaise drew his wand, though he wavered in his aim.

"He's probably sent these two to come spy on us. _Friends_ , what a bloody load of Gryffindor cra -"

Fred suddenly slapped Draco, to everyone's great shock. Draco looked at the Weasley, flabbergasted, a pale hand to his reddening cheek. Fred shocked everyone further by grabbing Draco and pulling him into an awkward hug.

"You stupid, albino prat. Ignore Harry for now all right? Me and Georgie - we're your friends too. We're not spying on you, you bloody idiot. For some unfathomable reason, we do like you quite a bit. Trust me, if anyone said _anything_ about you, or Vince, or Greg - we'd take them down. And if Lucius Malfoy does _anything_ to you, you're always welcome at ours. This is all _real_ Draco."

Draco stiffened in Fred's embrace, but after a few seconds he broke down and clutched the taller boy's shirt, crying into Fred's shoulder. He let out all the fear of rejection, all the fear of impending pain, all the tears he had held back in the face of an ugly society. He promised himself as he squeezed his last tears out, that he'd never bottle things up again, because why not talk about things and accept help, instead of bursting out in embarrassing episodes and having to turn to _Weasleys_ for comfort. What would his grandfather say?

The others let them be as Fred murmured reassurances of 'cry it out' and 'it's all right' until Draco pulled away.

"...I'm... sorry. I've been a right prat to you two."

"No hard feelings, mate," George said lightly, hugging Draco with one arm, "Now, what are you going to do about Harry?"

Draco shrugged, wrapping his arms around himself. He realised that he was still in his coat and shoes. Perhaps he should hold off on the 'talking about things' idea. "I don't want to talk to him. Or about him. Give me a few days."

* * *

 **A/N:** is this angsty enough? I wouldn't know. Because my angst tolerance is chilli sauce on a scale of tobasco to the Carolina Reaper. feedback is welcome, this chapter made me uncomfortable but it felt right. gotta hit rock bottom before you climb back up and all that.

i hope i didn't reach crybaby draco, though savingstrider says I didn't, I almost did? idk i want him to be a real person suffering real societal ingrained fears, you know what i mean?

... yeah yall can probably tell i'm insecure af about this chappie.

R&R!


	15. The Gryffindor Common Room

Harry scowled in desperation and irritation. He'd been a bloody insensitive idiot. After the Hogsmeade trip, he returned to the castle with Ron and Hermione, and when the Gryffindor duo tried make fun of the Slytherins to Seamus and Lavender about what happened at the Shack, Harry scowled at them, "If you two think he's such a bully, why are you being just like him?"

Ron had been disgusted at himself and yelled that he'd never do such a thing. Hermione had tried and failed to lecture Harry about Slytherin purebloods.

"You're sounding an awfully lot like them Hermione," Ron had scolded, "See? They're already infecting us with their Slytherin ways."

Hermione flushed an ugly red and fell silent. Harry tried to leave to look for Draco, but Hermione and Ron were insisting he tell them every single detail of the conversation in the pub. By the time Hermione had relented her line of questioning, it was past curfew, and Fred and George hadn't bothered helping him that night. Harry went up to bed early, but found himself unable to sleep.

He waited for Ron, Seamus, Dean and Neville to fall asleep, their heavy breathing and Ron's snores filling the dorm before he slipped down to the common room again. There was no one there and the fire was down to embers, casting the room in moonlight from the open windows and the flickers of a dying fire. Harry sank heavily into the plush armchair by the fire, staring into it, thinking and thinking. Soft footsteps padding on the stone stairs drew him out of his reverie.

Fred and George slipped down the stairs, their pajama bottoms slung low on their hips and their night shirts threadbare and loose. They padded over to Harry and sat on the armrests. Harry sighed, avoiding their gazes, "I'm guessing you got to Draco before I could then?"

"What happened Harry?" George asked.

"I followed them like you told me. But I was too far away when the confrontation started. I couldn't shout or anything, because it would blow our cover. It'd risk the Slytherins. And I didn't know how to interfere without anything going to shit."

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, trying to control his panic that the best friends and only family he'd ever known would both drop him like a hat. He couldn't cry. He didn't remember the last time he'd cried. Living with the Dursleys had much more effect on him than he'd realised.

"I don't know, I saw mud and mud is pretty harmless right? And I just threw it, I wasn't aiming at anyone or anything. But it landed on Draco, and I don't know. I thought it was funny. Hermione told me she used to play in the mud as a child. So I threw some at Vince and Greg too because I thought it was funny. I guess I didn't focus on Hermione and Ron too much."

He felt caged in, in between the twins. He wouldn't be able to run away from them in this position. He tilted his head down, looking at their strong arms in his peripheral vision. He knew how much damage they could do, had seen them take out countless Quidditch players when whacking bludgers about during Quidditch season. He knew even Vernon's fat arms packed a punch on his small body. Harry moved slowly, keeping the twins in his vision as he moved away from the window and the fireplace. He felt for his wand and was comforted by its weight in his pocket against his palm. At least he had magic here.

The twins watched him with some kind of caution and bewilderment. He breathed.

"Draco tripped over the cloak. I got revealed. Hermione and Ron thought I'd been pulling one over Draco. I thought it was _funny_ ; that he would see the humour in it. But he kinda just looked at me like I broke his spine. Like I was the worst tr- _traitor_ in the world."

Harry could feel his head spinning. He wasn't like Sirius Black. He _wasn't._ He started to breathe rapidly, black spots appearing at the edge of his vision. What was happening?

Fred and George recognised the signs, and launched forwards. Harry flinched and backed up rapidly, pressing himself against the wall next to the portrait hole. His wand was out of his pocket and aimed, though his hand was shaking. He was shaking like a leaf in the wind, but his glazed eyes seemed to see Fred and George anyway.

They both put their hands up, George whispered, "Harry. Harry. We're not going to hurt you. Please. Let us help."

"You don't mean that. _They never mean it_."

"Harry," Fred pleaded, "please. Look, you're having a panic attack. Georgie and I helped Ginny through them, we can help you, but only if you let us Harry."

"Harry, breathe. Look at us, we're _not going to hurt you_. See?"

They both took large steps back, hands still in the air. They were shaking a bit themselves, caught up in the emotional trauma of two of their friends.

Harry gasped out, his face turning blue, "You didn't help me tonight. You don't want to help me."

George took a step forward and Harry trained his wand on him, "Harry, I'm sorry. We had just spoken to Draco and - and we were confused."

"I'm sorry too. But Harry, you're our brother, our best friend. We would never hurt you. You're the only one who can tell us apart. And because of you, other people are beginning to as well."

"Harry," George said softly, taking a step forward, "Come here, let me help."

Harry was turning blue and sinking to the floor, unable to breathe. His heart was beating fast - too fast and he was losing his vision. He suddenly felt careful hands on him and around him and then he was on the floor and George was whispering nonsense into his ear and Fred was rubbing his back. He could hear two heartbeats, not in sync but complementing each other so it was a steady _thump thump thump thump_ that filled his ears and he felt his heart slow to match their slow breathing.

* * *

 **A/N** : yay more suffering i love making myself suffer.

R&R!


	16. The Kitchens

Harry's mind finally cleared and he could breathe again. He slumped in exhaustion into George, who tucked Harry's head under his chin. Harry snorted sadly, "You're just like Pansy now."

The twins chuckled and the three of them sat there in silence, up against the portrait hole.

"Harry, we aren't going to take sides on this. But we _will_ help you with Draco anyway we can, because he's got Pansy and Blaise and even Vince and Greg. So you'll have us. No matter what Harry, we'll be here for you," Fred murmured.

Harry nodded stiffly, unused to the sentiment, "All right. Um, thank you."

"You should corner him tomorrow. We'll run interference with the others. Talk about it."

"Yeah, use the Map all right? I'm sure it'll help you out. "

Harry sighed, but hope sprung up in his chest.

The next day, he avoided scathing looks from Vince and Greg, and avoided looking at Draco, who looked so bloody miserable that Harry wanted to cry. He couldn't of course, but he would deal with that later. Fred and George tried their best to distract Pansy and Blaise, but the two of them managed to corner Harry and Harry almost had another panic attack right there until Pansy threw herself at him and cuddled him in the middle of the deserted dungeon hallway.

"You are one _stupid_ prick Harry James Potter. You and Draco were made for each other. Now go fix him, and then apologise to Vince and Greg so they won't look like they might explode every time you breathe."

He hugged her back tightly, relieved, "Yes Ma'am."

"That's The Lady Parkinson to you, you scoundrel. Have I taught you naught about Pureblood protocol?" She joked.

Blaise clapped him on the back and smiled, "You and Draco need to get your shit together. While I do enjoy it, Fred's attention is beginning to smother me."

Harry laughed.

When afternoon classes ended, he ditched Ron and Hermione, who were too caught up having a silent conversation to realise he'd gone missing. He slipped into an alcove and pulled out the Marauders' Map from his haversack. The ink spread across the pages at his touch and he felt warm and loved. "Can you find a specific person?"

The ink assembled in the centre of the page:

 **Mr Prongs would like to enquire as to whom his son is looking for.**

"Draco Malfoy."

The ink swirled again:

 **Mr Padfoot would like to express his utmost pride that Prongslet will be pranking the Malfoys.**

Harry grimaced and interrupted the swirling words, "It's urgent. Please."

The swirling ink halted and then continued:

 **Mr Moony would like to inform Prongslet that Draco Malfoy is in the kitchens, located on the first floor of the Dungeons, behind the portrait of the bowl of fruit.**

 **Mr Wormtail would like to add that Prongslet must tickle the pear to enter the kitchens.**

"Right. Thank you."

Harry slipped in carefully back into the haversack and rushed for the kitchens. He arrived at the painting of the bowl of fruit and steeled himself in determination for the oncoming confrontation. He let out a shaky breath and tickled the pear. It laughed and turned into a doorknob. Harry pushed into the kitchens.

Various house-elves stopped in their work to welcome him, and he thanked them and hesitantly asked where Draco Malfoy was. They sobered and left him, only Dobby remaining. Dobby's ears flopped sadly.

"Master Draco is not feeling well. Maybe the great Harry Potter can help him."

He led Harry to the other end of the kitchen, where a small table was set up and Draco was miserably picking at his salad. Harry cleared his throat and Draco's eyes shot up, and then narrowed into his Malfoy scowl Harry hated so much.

"What do you want Potter? Come to gloat?"

He stood up and tried to walk away, but Harry grabbed him around the waist and then Draco was punching him and hitting his chest and cursing - and Harry let him. Draco wasn't as strong as the twins or Vernon, but he still packed a punch. Harry was sure there would be bruises on his chest the next day. It was all right. Harry deserved the beating.

When Draco was done, Harry was trembling and his breath was strained. Draco suddenly realised who he had been punching and gaped in horror, grey eyes shooting up to Harry's green ones. They weren't the brilliant green he knew, they looked blank, muted, unaware.

 _Fuck. He'd really done it now._

"Oh my god. Oh my god. Harry. Fuck Harry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Oh my god _what have I done._ "

Harry blinked owlishly and muttered, "I won't tell anyone, I promise." Draco gulped. He'd done to Harry what he swore he'd never do. Draco had sworn upon his name and he had broken the oath, nevermind that it wasn't binding. He called for the House Elves, "One of you, get me a bruise salve. I need pain potion. I don't care if you have to steal it from the infirmary, but don't let anyone know. Someone get him tea, and a hot towel. _Now._ "

Some elves cracked away while others fidgeted and looked at the two boys nervously. Three of them drew up a couch for them, and Draco guided Harry to it, finding no resistance and feeling even more disgusted at himself. Harry was responding, but he wasn't _responding_. When Draco called his name, Harry would turn to look at him, but he wouldn't see him.

It was all his fault, he'd _hurt_ Harry over - what? A bit of _mud_? Draco would come back from Quidditch absolutely _covered_ in mud. What was wrong with him? He didn't deserve to be angry. Harry didn't deserve his anger. Harry didn't deserve to get _hurt_. Not after everything he'd been through with the damn Muggles.

And that just made Draco feel even more like a pathetic excuse for a pureblood. He was a pathetic excuse for a _human_. Harry trusted him, told him secrets of his home life that he'd never told anyone else, save some for Fred and George Weasley. Draco had damaged that trust today. He didn't think he'd ever gain it back once Harry realised what he did.

The elf with the bruise salve popped back in and held it up to Draco while Draco stripped the smaller boy of his clothing.

He could see the prominent red marks that he'd left behind, as well as a few other scars from old wounds. He flinched at the reminder of what a monster he was and then applied the salve all over Harry's skin. The red marks faded away, as did some of the discolouration from previous beatings.

He passed Harry the tea laced with pain potion and watched him drink it mechanically. Draco pulled Harry to lay against his chest and put the hot towel on his aching chest, to ease the tense and bruised muscles. They sat there in silence as the elves went back to their work, taking turns to watch the two boys. Draco took the silence to think and churn and _think_.

After half an hour, Harry spoke again, "Draco?"

Draco sighed in relief, clutching Harry to him and burying his nose in Harry's hair, "I'm sorry Harry. I'm so sorry."

Harry hesitated, "It's fine Draco. I'm the one to blame."

" _No_. No you're not. I shouldn't have done that, not with whatever you'd told me about the Muggles. I'm sorry. I promise. Never again. Never again. It wasn't fine and it never will be. I'm so sorry Harry. Never again."

Harry nodded slowly, but didn't argue. "Well, I am sorry about throwing mud at you. I didn't think. I wasn't aiming for you. I just wanted to distract you from the two of them before you did something you'd regret. It's considered fun in the Muggle world to play with mud, or sand or dirt. I never considered the implications for a pureblood. But you're one of my closest friends, Draco. I don't want to lose you. I'm sorry if I ever made you doubt me."

"Honestly, I don't even care about that anymore. It's nothing compared to what I've done to you. I come back from Quidditch all the time covered in mud. I have no right to be angry over what you did. It may have been demeaning from a pureblood perspective, but now that I look back on it, it makes no sense that a bit of mud should bother me so much."

Harry stayed silent. Draco continued, muffled by his face in Harry's hair, "I'm reconsidering what it means to be a pureblood. What it means to be Slytherin. Salazar was no racist bigot. This has always been our defence of Slytherin. Salazar didn't want Muggleborns here because at that time, Muggles were burning witches, killing anyone Magical. They could've sent in a spy of sorts. Magic then wasn't as developed as it is now. Slytherin was all about self-preservation. He was about loyalty. Protect your own before you protect others. That's what it means to be Slytherin. And it was from the misconception of his actions that came the notion of Purebloods. It's all a lie. It's all a farce."

Harry knew Draco's world view was changing, "Draco -"

"I still hate Granger and Weasel. But I don't call her mudblood because I mean it. I call her that because it gets to her and I want her to hurt for treating me the way she does and still calling herself an upstanding Gryffindor. She's a _hypocrite_. They all are. Mudblood, pureblood, it doesn't matter. What matters now is _power_. Power and _loyalty_."

Draco clutched Harry tighter, "I am trying to be less of a pretentious pureblood arse. I'm trying to forget my father's teachings, especially now that I know he's insane. I'm sorry I hit you. That's the most important thing to me right now."

"I forgive you."

"But don't forget. Never forget. Don't let me do it again. Don't let _anyone_ do it again. Promise me?"

"I promise," Harry said as firmly as he could. He'd figure something out this summer.

"Good."

"I still want to apologise for the mud throwing. It was wrong of me, no matter what you say. If I had done it to Ron or Hermione, they'd have been offended too. I'm sorry."

Draco accepted Harry's apology, "Perhaps we are both to blame for what's happened."

Draco helped him put his clothes on again, and they stayed like that the rest of the day until curfew.

* * *

 **A/N** : Test week this week, so forgive me for posting late. R&R!


	17. The Kitchens (Alternate)

"Oi Malfoy, get us some sweeties from the kitchens won't you?" mocked the Murtaugh heir, and King of Slytherin. Draco sneered back but went to do so anyway. Draco had fallen from grace. Every third-year and up Slytherin had seen him, Vince and Greg streaked with mud. The hierarchy had changed that night. He was no longer anywhere near the top of Slytherin. He was somewhere down at the bottom, just above some of the second years. Vince and Greg had lost their standing too.

Draco had received a disgusted letter from Father, condemning him and demanding he regain his family honour. How _dare_ the heir to the Malfoy throne disgrace his family, allowing himself to be brought down to the level of _mudbloods_ and _Muggles_. Even his Mother had sent him a strongly-worded letter, and that was no help any. Draco clenched his jaw as he slipped through the shadows towards the kitchens.

It was two weeks since he had fallen, and he was still trying to earn back whatever standing he had lost. _Fall before the rise, fall before the rise_ , he chanted it like a mantra in his head as he asked the house-elves for some treats. Murtaugh would get it from him one day, when Draco ascended to the top of the ladder. His only company now was Vince and Greg, and even then, he knew they were pissed off at him for dragging them down with him. Pansy could no longer be seen in his company, for she might suffer from a demotion in standing as the most powerful in third and fourth year. Blaise, despite his indifference to social norms, knew that to be seen with a disgraced Slytherin was like asking for social suicide.

Draco tried to hold back his anger. This was all bloody Potter's fault. He never should have trusted him. Fred and George Weasley were _slightly_ better, but he knew despite their words and promises, that they were firmly on Potter's side and would do anything to help Potter.

Potter chased Draco down every day since the trip. Curse that _wretched_ _half-blood_ \- he could find Draco when Draco was alone and in the deepest and loneliest parts of the dungeons. Draco had steadfastly and coldly ignored the damn fool. Potter launched dozens upon dozens of platitudes at him and Draco could not bring it in himself to care. Potter had betrayed him, and he would _pay_. He knew Pansy and Blaise had refused to speak to Potter for these two weeks, and he was grateful he had loyal friends in them. Vince and Greg were vicious in their hatred and if it weren't for Fred and George holding them back, Potter would be a pile of flesh and bone on the floor of the dungeons.

Draco winced, and he hated himself for it. Whatever Potter had told him about his home-life - was it true? Even if it was, should Draco be disgusted with himself for feeling tormented at the thought of Potter being bruised and beaten? He shook his head, as if to clear his thoughts away. And that was when Potter found him _again, curse the bloody son of a b-_

"Draco?" Potter asked hesitantly. Draco ignored the _deceitful, patronising_ -

"Draco, please, it's been two weeks, I've said I'm sorry at least a _hundred times_! What more do I have to do to get you to forgive me?" Potter exclaimed in frustration.

 _Draco snapped._

"How _bloody fucking dare you, you pompous, big-headed, bampot_! I have _fallen_ from my standing in Slytherin, _disgraced_ my family name, _dragged_ two of my compatriots down with me, and you think this will all be solved with your _worthless worded apologies_?"

Potter looked stunned, "But-"

Draco snarled, getting up in Potter's face, "You think this is about _you? HA_! You have _always_ thought yourself too bloody important. You think _words_ can fix whatever has happened? You think you can go up to _Ignatius Murtaugh_ and tell him to stop exerting his rightful power over me? You think that with your god forsaken apologies you can redeem me in the eyes of society? _My father is threatening to disown me!_ You think your pretty words can stop that?"

Potter gulped, "Draco -"

"I have lost _everything_ , Potter. You have dragged me down while you remain standing, and _nothing_ you say will help me up again. Now leave me alone, because you're just making it easier for me to off myself."

With that Draco stormed off, still carrying Murtaugh's goods, leaving Harry staring contemplatively after him.

Weird things started happening after that. On Wednesday, Draco came back to the common room from his hour of solitude to find Jacinthia Hamed and her little posse of third years had been shifted down the hierarchy. Meaning, Draco, Vince and Greg had been boosted up. When he discretely asked Greg what happened, Greg looked perplexed and said, "They had to go to Pomfrey because they'd been belching all through lunch."

Draco raised a brow in surprise, "That sounds like a prank."

Vince snorted, "Doesn't matter. Murtaugh's in power. What he says goes, and if he says Jacinthia Hamed brought dishonour upon Slytherin, she falls."

Draco frowned but shrugged it off. The power dynamic was always changing in Slytherin anyway. But then on Thursday, while Draco was reading in the library, Pansy suddenly approached him. He looked at her calmly, but inwardly, he wondered what the hell she was thinking.

"Draco," she addressed, and his eyebrows shot up of their own accord, "It seems Theodore Nott and Damian Stax got in a duel with a Ravenclaw second year. And lost."

"What?" Draco blurted and he felt his cheeks flame when several fourth year Slytherins cast surreptitious looks over, hoping to hear the change in house politics. He knew Pansy was aware of them, and he didn't know what she was playing at.

"My father has had... _words_ with yours, and you'll be delighted to know that our families are now in shared interest in the Malfoy-Parkinson ward at St. Mungo's."

Draco knew what she was doing. She was placing herself on equal footing with him, and in view of witnesses. He wondered briefly if she was behind the events of today and the day before. He asked her politely, "I assume your father has asked you to tell me?"

"Yes," Pansy smirks, "Your father made that one... _request_ of him after the finalisation."

She had conceded to him, in a manner that left her one spot behind him. Draco doubted his father had really asked Parkinson Senior. He promised in his heart to pull Pansy up with him. He returned to his book, though he wasn't reading the words on the pages. Someone was coordinating these events, and it wasn't Pansy, judging by the indiscernible shake of a head he got when he asked his silent question. He also came to the startling realisation that Potter hadn't sought him out yesterday, and he didn't seem keen on seeking Draco out today. He felt a twinge of sadness, followed by a large dose of irritation. He had no time for _Potter_ , he still needed to crawl back up.

Two weeks passed by in the same manner, with various Slytherins above him falling from grace again and again and again. Murtaugh was uncaring of course - he was still the King, and he didn't seem to be displeased by the reputation Slytherin was garnering in the eyes of Pureblood society. _One of his many faults_ , Draco thought as he inched closer and closer to his coveted position amongst the Fifth years, Murtaugh was idiotic for working against those below him, instead of with or for. The latter two would have solidified loyalty and a subtle debt-collection in the future. Draco would remember that once he became King. But it would be for some time yet.

In the meantime, Harry Potter hadn't bothered him for two weeks. He still saw Potter in the hallways, but the Gryffindor always smiled at him and went on his way unconcerned with Draco's scowl. Draco was bothered, and slightly suspicious. What the hell was Potter playing at?

By the time January rolled around and the holidays were over, Draco had finally reached his coveted position with some help from his mysterious benefactor, and was ranked third amongst the Fifth year students. Naturally he had pulled Pansy along with him, increasing her standing. She insisted she knew nothing about how he'd managed to regain his old position so easily. He didn't believe her.

Every other day of the past two weeks, a Slytherin above Draco would lose their placing in their year, or be pushed down a few spots. This allowed Draco and Pansy to be pushed up almost constantly, since Murtaugh saw more problem with gaining power by working for it rather than by coincidence, the dolt he was. Slytherin had never seen a more vicious upheaval in house politics.

Draco headed down to the kitchens, as he was wont to do since he no longer had the Silver Circle occupying his time. He briefly allowed himself to mourn the loss of a coveted network of powerful friends, but it halted as he stepped into the kitchen to find Harry Potter waiting for him.

Potter smiled at him disarmingly, and Draco bristled. He had a suspicion he now knew who had gotten him back in Slytherin's good graces.

"I'm surprised Pansy didn't tell you. She almost broke my neck when I approached her for help."

Draco sneered at Potter's arrogance, "That seems like a lesser punishment than what I would have done had she told me."

Potter smiled sadly and for gods' sake Draco _hated_ how he still wished Potter was his friend.

"Draco… you said my words and apologies held no meaning for you - and you were right." Potter said grimly. Draco looked at him impassively, though internally he was downright perplexed.

"I brought you down with actions, it was only right I raised you up again with them," he interrupted Draco's protest, "I never said you rose up only because of me. I only said I helped you regain your position. I wasn't the one that took down Montgomery, or Devin. Or -"

"Yes, I get it. Get on with it Potter," Draco snarled half-heartedly. He was oddly touched by what Potter had done. It redeemed him… somewhat.

Potter looked down and scuffed his shoes on the floor, "I asked Pansy for the positions of power in Slytherin. Fred and George helped with some of the disgracing we pulled."

"You were behind Jacinthia Hamed." Draco guessed, "And what of those who fell because of other people?"

"Me, Fred and George. They're quite good at transfiguration."

They were silent for a moment, the elves bustling around them in muted movement. Potter looked damned pathetic, and Draco couldn't help but want to forgive this Gryffindor idiot who'd done all that to help _him_.

Potter sighed and rubbed his eye under his glasses, "Look Draco, I've done everything I can to prove to you I'm sorry. I never wanted to hurt you and I know I was a _huge arse_ for the - the mud thing. And I spoke to Pansy and she says Blaise, Vince and Greg will never forgive me unless you do, and I will do _anything_ to have you all back. Please."

"Anything?"

Potter nodded earnestly, though his shoulders slumped.

"What if I wanted King?" Draco whispered. Harry nodded in agreement, rummaging through his haversack and murmuring to himself, "Sure, give me two weeks. I've got to get more supplies, and Fred and George have to run to Zonko's, and I need plans, but yeah I should be able to -"

" _ **Harry**_."

Harry looked up in surprise. Draco stared at the Gryffindor indifferently, but he had already forgiven Harry. Draco never knew someone who would give him anything he wanted, with no benefit to themselves, if only for his time and friendship.

"If you ever do anything remotely foolish or belittling again, I will end you. And it will serve as a reminder what families I come from."

Harry gulped, "Yes, I swear, never again."

They looked anywhere but each other and then Harry cleared his throat awkwardly, "So, um, are we cool?"

Draco sighed, "Yes, Potter, we are ' _cool_ '."

* * *

 **A/N:** i got a comment on ao3 how my ending for Chappie 16 was anticlimatic, so here's a better version. You can choose to read based on the first or the second, I think people call it 'alternate endings'... but since this is not an ending, we'll just call this alternate.


	18. Castle Grounds

"You've been awfully quiet Harry. Is something troubling you?"

Harry looked up at Remus' scarred face. They were walking through the Hogwarts grounds this Hogsmeade trip. The Slytherins were still chilly towards him, but it was better than the murderous glares he'd been receiving a month ago. Harry was treading very carefully around them, because he had to earn his way back into their good books before they could ever achieve the Silver Circle status they had before. It was the consequence of being friends with Slytherins, but Harry felt better knowing his friendships with them were definitely more serious.

"Ron and Hermione," he lied, "They heard about Sirius Black being my godfather. And what he'd done."

Remus winced, "Ah."

"I told the Slytherins. And Fred and George."

Remus hesitated, "Do you think it's wise to do that?"

"I don't know. I'm still working on my apologies. They seem to like obtaining information and ammunition. And Fred and George are my brothers."

"Harry, about Ron and Hermione - I thought the three of you were close?"

"Oh," Harry said carelessly, "I didn't tell you. They're spying on me for Molly Weasley. She reports to Dumbledore."

"What?" Remus growled. Harry took a step back and Remus visibly calmed himself. "Why would Dumbledore spy on you?"

"He's preparing to use me as a… a pawn. I told you about Quirrell and Voldemort and Tom Riddle's Diary. Voldemort's not really gone." And then with more conviction, "I know it, and Dumbledore knows it. He's going to use me as a pawn in this fight against Voldemort."

"Dumbledore… He's not like that Harry, he's a great man -"

"Dumbledore made the tasks blocking the Philosopher's Stone easy enough for three eleven year olds to pass through. Quirrell almost got to the stone. If it wasn't for the Mirror of Erised, he'd have it."

Harry turned to look at Remus, his brilliant green eyes glowing like the Killing Curse. "He wanted me to find Quirrell. And fight him. Fight Voldemort. Don't tell me Dumbledore couldn't sense him on the back of Quirrell's head the very moment he passed through the school wards."

Remus felt deeply unsettled, both by Harry's terrifying eyes, and this revelation about Dumbledore. The Professor slumped heavily against a tree. Harry eyed him, wondering if Remus would brush him off or not.

"Harry," Remus began tiredly, and Harry's heart sank, "I will need some time to dwell on what you've told me. And I will, I promise you."

Harry's eyebrows shot up, "You believe me?"

Remus looked at the skinny boy and smiled, "Of course, Harry. You are the most honest person I've met. I see no reason not to at least consider your side of the story."

Remus bit his lip, and looked away to Harry's left, "I… I should tell you a few things then. I don't like keeping secrets from you Harry." Remus' nose scrunched in determination, "You may not like this. Perhaps you should sit down."

Harry sat on a boulder a little away from Remus, "Are you all right Remus? Nothing bad's happened has it?"

"Well that depends on your view of it. What do you know of lycanthropy Harry?"

Harry shrugged, "Only whatever Professor Snape taught us."

"Harry... I'm a werewolf."

Harry cocked an eyebrow and pasted a small confused smile on his face. He had figured it out long ago, it wasn't hard, especially when Remus disappeared the day before and after every full moon, Snape refused to teach anything else, and Harry wasn't blind to the hatred between them.

"I know. What of it?"

Remus jerked and almost fell over into a bush, "You knew?"

"Yes," Harry said simply, kicking the heels of his well-worn sneakers against the boulder he sat on. Remus picked himself off the forest floor and looked at Harry incredulously.

"You're not disgusted? Or afraid? Harry… I'm a werewolf. I'm dangerous, a beast!"

Harry frowned for real this time, "Isn't it normal for werewolves to exist in the Wizarding World? I mean, there are vampires and merpeople right?"

Remus dusted off his patched robes and deliberately looked away from Harry while he spoke, "Harry, in the Wizarding World, werewolves are second-class citizens. As are vampire, merpeople, Veela, centaurs. We are treated as beasts, Magical creatures. Those who can and want to, they flee to the States, or France, or Germany - in Asia they're practically revered - because they have rights there. Their rights are equal to that of a normal wizard or witch. But for those who are stuck here in the UK…" Remus smiled resignedly, "We can't have jobs, there is prejudice, we have no rights. We are half-breeds. Ministry law deems us creatures. Do you understand where I'm coming from Harry?"

Remus finally looked up at his best friend's son, his heart nearly breaking with the horror displayed on Harry's face. "I-I'll just l-leave you alone now -"

Remus could barely stutter out an apology before Harry was colliding into him, both of their thin frames jabbing at each other, sharp elbows digging into skin, causing them to wince. Harry hugged Remus tight nonetheless.

"That's bullshit Moony. You aren't a monster, you're the gentlest, kindest soul I've ever had the pleasure of meeting even though you've been through so much."

Harry could feel Remus smile into his hair, he felt a few tears wet his scalp. He let Remus hug him a little longer, and when they separated, Harry pulled Remus over to the boulder he'd been sitting on. They sat side by side, pressed up against each other. They were silent, collecting their thoughts.

Harry finally asked, "How did it happen?"

Remus picked at his trouser seam, "My father was an expert on Magical creatures. He joined the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. The Ministry called on his expertise one day, for a Muggle tramp they suspected of being a werewolf. His name was Fenrir Greyback."

Remus paused and swallowed, and Harry took his scarred, roughened hands in his own small, calloused ones. Remus nodded and continued, "The Department didn't think he was a werewolf. And the werewolf registration records weren't well-kept. But my father recognised the signs. The Department was going to let him go free, and my father said something quite horrible. Greyback escaped."

Remus shuddered, "He - He wanted to get back at my father for that remark. He broke into my bedroom window and attacked me. It was... terrible. My father managed to arrive in time and curse him out of the room, but by then, I'd already been turned."

Harry leaned his head on Remus' shoulder, offering meagre comfort. Remus smiled at him, "It was a long time ago Harry."

They were quiet for a bit, and then Harry whispered, "I have the Marauders Map. And Dad's old invisibility cloak."

Remus whipped his head around to look at Harry. Harry reached for his haversack, and pulled out the Map. He handed it to Remus, who held it like a newborn baby.

"How?"

"Fred and George nicked it from Filch's office their first year. They gave it to me recently, to help me get away from Ron and Hermione easily."

"And - And the cloak?"

Harry pulled it out of his haversack, the shimmering inner material glinting under the sun's rays. "I suspect Dumbledore gave it to me. Sent it to me as a present in first year. He caught me with it once, and he didn't even seem surprised."

He let Remus touch the two items, reminiscing about his Hogwarts days, filled with laughter and pranks and innocence. And friends. The best of friends. He gingerly returned the items to Harry and watched his best friend's son carefully fold the Map and tuck it away into his peculiar haversack. Then Harry folded up the cloak and put it into the haversack as well.

"Are you angry?" Harry asked softly.

"No, Harry. It would be awfully hypocritical of me to be angry about your secrets. I'm glad you told me. And I'm glad I told you mine."

"Did Dad know?"

"Yes," Remus smiled fondly, his look far away in another time, "He and… He and S-Sirius figured it out. They were brilliant about it. Became Animagi to keep me company during the moon, you know? Not that anyone knew."

Harry sat up, "Professor McGonagall said becoming an animagus took a lot of concentration and an excellent grasp of transfiguration! Not many people can do it!"

Remus chuckled, "James was a stubborn arse, Padfoot was resourceful, I was good at research and Peter… well Peter brought snacks mostly. He had a way with the elves. We worked together to do it. We did everything together, really."

"How did they keep you company? I thought you wouldn't be in your right mind when you transformed?"

"Your father was a stag, hence Prongs, and he was large enough to keep me in line. S -Si - he was a dog, a great, black dog, so when the wolf got too savage for Prongs, he'd fight it, take command over it. Peter was a rat. He did a lot of scouting and looking out when the other two were keeping me in line."

Harry nodded and they sat there in silence, processing. Harry looked up at Remus in curiosity, "Remus, that potion you drank..."

"It's a fairly recent invention. It's called Wolfsbane Potion, and it suppresses the wolf inside, and allows me to keep my own mind when I transform."

"You should carry some with you at all times. Just in case. Like my haversack," Harry gestured, "You may forget one day and regret it. It's fairly recent right? 'Habits take a while to cultivate' Mrs Figg always said."

Remus chuckled, "I don't think that's quite necessary Harry. Professor Snape always brings it to me."

Harry startled, "Professor Snape brews your potion? You hate each other! And I don't trust him! What if he poisons you? He's been trying to have someone figure out you're a werewolf for ages."

"Harry, it's perfectly fine," Remus chided, "We aren't schoolboys anymore. We can put aside our differences for the sake of the students. Besides, the Headmaster spoke with Professor Snape about my return, and he insisted I take the potion before he hired me. It's safe."

"You're going to trust Snape, your enemy and rival for more than two decades, to brew a potion that you ingest every month to keep from hurting people, just because the Headmaster had a chat with him?" Harry asked in outraged disbelief. Remus faltered.

"Well, when you put it that way..."

"Remus, why can't you brew your own potion? Why does it have to be Snape? Madame Pomfrey can probably brew it just as well!"

Remus shook his head distractedly, "I'm rubbish at potions. Always have been. And Madame Pomfrey falls under the Headmaster's jurisdiction. Besides, she's not as good as Snape is. Severus is one of the few potion masters left in the UK -"

"Well that's rubbish! You just have to follow instructions don't you? Besides, I helped Hermione brew Polyjuice in second year, and Draco Malfoy is the best Potions student this year. And Fred and George are the top of their year too. We could make it. And if all else fails, I'll buy you the potion -"

"Harry!"

"Be quiet Remus, this is one argument you aren't going to win."

Remus slumped in reluctant defeat.

"You're far too mature for your age. And I'm sorry to see it."

"Why? I've got plenty of friends my age!"

"You're one of the youngest students in this year, Harry. Your birthday is in July, far later than any of your friends. And you have a tendency to fit in well with the older crowd. Fred and George Weasley are an example, and your Quidditch team quite adores you."

Harry sat up, "I've got younger friends too! There's Ginny! And -"

He paused, eyes darting about in thought. Harry frowned, "Hmm. I'm going to have to change that."

"That's not necessary Harry -"

"But it'd be good to know my youngers. Imagine where I'd be if I didn't have Fred and George or Angelina or Katie."

He hopped from the rock, ignoring Remus' eyeroll, "Right, let's go Remus, there's still a few hours before the Hogsmeade trip ends and I want to talk to Ginny."

When the students came back from Hogsmeade, to their utter bewilderment, they found Harry Potter holding court in the Great Hall with first and second years of all houses (from Looney Lovegood to the kid with the camera, to first year Astoria Greengrass) chattering away at him, and the Professors looking on in amusement.

* * *

A/N: so sorry for being so late on the update, it's been a hectic week. this chapter is kind of a filler but also strider thinks it's good relationship development so yay i realised ive never written a chapter on quidditch... should i? i was planning on saving it for fifth year at least, when things were more settled.


	19. Gryffindor Tower

" _Oh for goodness' sake_! HARRY - what's the _matter_ with you? You've been falling asleep in classes, you've been running off by yourself _and_ you have terrible circles under your eyes. That's not good if you want to pass Third Year!"

"Yeah! And mate, you've got to be on the lookout! Everyone knows Sirius Black is after you. What if he shows up one day and you're all wonky? You wouldn't have a chance! Besides, you've got to be in shape for Quidditch!"

"Even Professor Lupin wouldn't let you face the boggart that day in class. Speaking of, I wonder why he's afraid of a glowing ball…"

"Nevermind that Hermione," Harry interjected quickly, "Besides, Professor Lupin thought my boggart would be Voldemort -" he ignored the sharp gasps from the two Gryffindors, "- and he didn't want to terrify the class."

"Don't say his name!" Ron hissed. Harry rolled his eyes as the Golden Trio came to a stop in front of a massive crowd along the corridor towards Gryffindor Tower. Harry looked around and spotted Fred standing with Angelina. He waved them over.

"What's going on?" Harry asked Fred, who furrowed his brows in confusion and shrugged. Angelina was trying to peer over all the heads.

"I don't know Harry. I think Katie's in front, maybe she knows..."

"Maybe Neville's forgotten the password again -" Ron joked meanly.

"Oi!"

Ron spun around to see Neville glaring at him, "Oh oops, sorry mate."

Ginny suddenly pushed her way through the crowd, "The Fat Lady! She's gone!"

" _What_?"

There was a swift movement of students behind them as the Headmaster, Filch and Percy Weasley pushed their way through the crowd, " _Move_! _Excuse_ me! The Headmaster is coming through!"

Filch and Percy shoved people aside roughly, allowing Dumbledore to glide past towards the portrait of The Fat Lady. Harry peeped from behind Fred, whom he'd been shoved behind.

There were deep long gouges ripping the portrait apart, like claws had carved into them in rage. Dumbledore whirled around to Filch, his glittery yellow robes billowing. The maddening twinkle in his eye had vanished, leaving behind a cold facade.

"Send the ghosts on a search, we must find the Fat Lady."

"No need, Headmaster," Filch croaked, a gnarled, leathery finger rising up to point, "She's over there."

There was a huge stampede as everyone who'd congregated in the hallway shifted and pushed towards where Filch had pointed. Dumbledore ignored all of this and simply allowed himself to be led to a painting of a rather large hippopotamus.

"Dear Lady, who has done this to you?" He asked softly, comfortingly. All Harry could see was that he was digging for answers, and that being comforting was merely being polite.

" _It's him! Sirius Black!"_ She screamed in terror, and dived behind the hippopotamus again. There was a pin-drop silence... and then an immediate outbreak of shrieks and screams and tears.

"Percy," Dumbledore said gravely, "Alert all the Prefect and Professors. Bring all the students to the Great Hall at once."

"Yes sir!" And he ran off.

Harry could barely blink before Fred grabbed him. Fred jogged him all the way to the Great Hall amongst the throng of students, avoiding Ron and Hermione's calls and shouts to wait. They met George and Ginny in the Hall, and Ginny instantly took his hand. He could see Ron and Hermione looking for him, but he couldn't deal with them now. He knew all they would do was ask and question and talk about Sirius Black, and that was the last thing Harry wanted to do tonight.

The four of them dragged their sleeping bags to a corner near the Professors' table, avoiding Ron and Hermione. He caught Vince's eye across the hall and Vince gave him an imperceptible nod. Harry felt strangely comforted. Ron and Hermione were moving closer to where Harry was, sleeping bags on hand under the pretence of finding a spot. Harry swore he saw Hermione share a look with Dumbledore. They were looking for him on Dumbledore's orders then. Now he _really_ didn't want to talk to them.

"Ginny, be a dear and distract Ron will you?" George whispered, half-joking.

Ginny looked questioningly at Harry, who avoided her gaze and fiddled with his sleeping bag. She nodded once and walked over to Percy, sleeping bag clutched in her arms. Percy called Ron over and Hermione followed, though her gaze wandered. Ron's shoulders tensed in irritation while Percy spoke authoritatively, but he took Ginny anyway. The odd trio found a spot in the centre of the hall and set up there. Percy was already insisting everyone sleep. Ron and Hermione resigned their efforts for the night.

Harry crawled into his sleeping bag and sighed. He was used to sleeping on hard surfaces. Harry had had to make do with a tiny cot inside his cupboard for eleven years, and throughout his whole life he'd taken to taking naps outside in the parks or playgrounds when avoiding the Dursleys. Harry shifted when he felt the tingle of magic run over him.

"Easy, Harold," soothed George, "Just a cushioning charm. We're doing it for everyone."

"Oh. Thanks."

The Hall had fallen almost silent, except for the restless shifting and crunching of sleeping bags and low murmurs of students. The Professors were patrolling the corridors and the entrances to the Great Hall. Harry briefly saw Remus - haggard and utterly miserable, though not without anger and determination in his every step. Harry hoped Remus would be all right.

"Harry," came Fred's whisper, "You all right, mate? You look mighty uncomfortable."

"Don't be dim, Fred," George hissed.

"You know I don't mean it like that, Georgie. Was the cushioning charm weak?"

"I'll have you know, _Frederick,_ " hissed George indignantly as he rolled over to face Harry and Fred, "That _I_ beat your Charms score last week by 5 marks _and_ topped the class."

Harry snickered, and he felt the tension loosen. Fred huffed, "All right, all right. Why are you so uncomfortable then Harold?"

Harry picked at his sleeping bag, "Actually - Could you - could you take off the cushioning charm?"

George and Fred looked at Harry in bewilderment, "What?"

"Take it off. Please."

George immediately did so and Harry felt the tingle of magic fade away into the stone floor.

"Harry… why do you want to sleep on the hard floor?"

It was late, and Harry was exhausted. It had been an extremely long, emotionally taxing day and he really just wanted to go to bed and wake up without someone wanting to off him.

"I'm used to it," he mumbled, "slept in me cupboard remember? And on park benches. Nice. Quiet. No Dursleys."

Harry yawned, unaware of the whispered, " _His cupboard?"_

"Night Freddie, Georgie."

He was fast asleep by the time they returned the sentiment.

Two weeks later and Sirius Black attacked again. Only this time, he got into the Gryffindor dormitory, tried to kill Ron and then ran off. McGonagall had dragged Neville off for a very thorough chewing off, and while Harry knew Neville wasn't at fault, Harry couldn't help but feel utterly terrified that Sirius Black had been in the same room as him.

Harry sat with Ron and the other boys in the common room, while Sir Cadogan was removed from his post and an empty frame was put in place so the surrounding portraits could pass in and out to allow entrance.

Ron seemed shaken up, but he was all right, Sirius Black hadn't done anything to him. Harry felt bad for his friend, right until Ron opened his big mouth.

"What the _bloody hell_ Harry! Of _all_ the beds he decided to loom over, he loomed over _mine_. _Your_ bed's right next to mine! What's he playing at having a go at _me_?"

Harry stiffened, and the rest of the Gryffindors turned to listen raptly. Ron continued his indignant spiel, "We all know he's after _you_ , why the hell he'd go for me? Or is this some sort of sick thing in his head? Wasn't you had to roll under the bed last night to avoid getting cut to ribbons! _A person could die being your friend, Harry_!"

Fred shoved his way in front of Ron, such a fierce and angry gleam in his eyes that Ron immediately backed away, " _You watch your mouth_ -"

"Fred! Stop it, leave it," Harry said, though his voice came out harsher than he intended and he felt something tingle in his veins. Fred looked at him in surprise and backed off, and when Harry looked around at the gathered Gryffindors, they all fussed at their things and avoided his eye. How 'd never known them to be the tactful sort.

He brushed it off and turned to Ron, "I never asked you to be friends with me Ron. You approached me remember? But I suppose if it's _so hard_ being friends with Harry Potter, maybe you shouldn't be. It's not much of a loss to me."

With that, Harry stood up with much more grace than he usually had and glided off, "I'll be in Fred, George and Lee's room tonight, I doubt even Sirius Black will want to be on the receiving end of a nasty prank."

Ron spluttered and Hermione tittered somewhere off in a corner with the Gryffindor girls. Fred and George flanked Harry and helped him get his things. The trio were silent all the way to Harry's new dorm, where Lee had already commandeered a troupe of house-elves to make Harry's bed. He stuck an arm out to Harry and smiled, bypassing Harry's hand gripping him at the forearm. Harry stumbled but gripped Lee's arm too, slightly confused.

Lee grinned, "Pleasant stay, Harry." Then he walked to the bathroom, whistling on his way out. Harry looked at Fred and George in question.

"That's his way of making friends. Lee's cool that way, doesn't do that with a lot of people," Fred said.

"Means he likes you, and you're under his protection or what not, we don't really get it," George shrugged.

Harry sat down on his bed and began to untie his laces. Meanwhile, the twins flopped carelessly down onto his bed and yelped.

"Blimey Harry! Why's your bed so hard? D'you honestly like sleeping like this?"

"What do you mean? Aren't all the beds like this?"

George shook his head and rubbed his sore bum, "The beds are all catered to student preferences. Haven't you sat on the other boys beds before? You must have noticed."

Harry scratched the back of his neck, his long fringe falling into his eyes, "Um, no. Dean blew up at Ron first year. Ron tried to touch his stuff. And I've always been taught not to. Y'know - about touching things that aren't mine."

They were silent for a bit and Harry felt like Death knowing he kept slipping up and telling Fred and George things he'd kept quiet for years. The twins didn't press, though Harry knew they were burning with questions. He appreciated them much more for it.

Harry knew he'd have to tell someone about his childhood one day, about the things he went through and still went through every summer. He had yet to figure out his thoughts on his childhood as compared to others, but Harry supposed as he began to trust Fred and George more, he'd eventually tell them everything. And they'd give him time and try their best to help, like they did with Ginny.

He really couldn't be more grateful for Fred and George Weasley.

* * *

 **A/N** :yo yo guess whose birthday it was! Mine! YAYYYYY, that's why i'm posting today, sort of a present to myself hehe, hope you like it! fave and follow if u like this story!


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